Finding Venus
by Persephone's Rage
Summary: Vegeta comes to Earth. Finds that Bulma is the "Key" to his transforming into the Super Saiya-jin. Kidnaps her. V/B. Contains some m/f dub-con. Rated M for language and lemons. In process of editing and re-writing.
1. Explanation

Okay. So it's been over 10 years since I've written, read, or published anything on FF. Real life got intense, but I'm back, indefinitely. At least long enough to re-write and polish "Finding Venus." I'm also a bit ticked because people (most recently, twilightteacher227...so stupid) have been plagiarizing my story. Not bitter, kinda flattered…but still, it's stealing, and I'm crazy enough to cut a bitch…

Anyway, I am going to be rewriting most of the story and will definitely finish it. The first few chapters will remain the same…so here goes…


	2. Chapter 1

Author: Persephone's Rage

Chapter I - Sacrifices

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, except for ones I've created. Please do not sue me as I have no money. If I did have money, I probably would not be writing DBZ fanfiction. I'd be too busy spending my money.

Rating: NC-17 for language, sex (some m/f dubious consent) and violence; sorry kiddies, but this one's not for you.

Notes: This is an AU, will take place over a span of multiple chapters, and it will be pretty dark, focusing primarily on Bulma and Vegeta. It has undertones of the 'Bulma is taken as a slave to Vegetasei' theme but that is not the primary reason for her abduction. On a visit to Earth, Vegeta discovers Bulma is the one person he needs the most. You'll have to read to find out why! :-)

Of two evils, the less is always to be chosen.

~ Thomas à Kempis.

Blackness enveloped her, thick and impenetrable, leaving no room for light. She floated slowly through the liquid night, interrupted occasionally by bursts of brilliant color. A thin glimmer of silver broke on the horizon, raising her hopes of being saved from the silent void.

But as soon as it appeared, it was gone, leaving her in her perpetual night. The darkness was cruel, menacing, and surrounded her completely.

Just as she thought she could bear no more, a bright light exploded before her, engulfing her vision in total whiteness and hurtling her through space.

She landed on something soft. As the light began to fade, she found herself standing in a field, all lush and green and alive. The colors almost seemed to vibrate, and she felt like laughing aloud and dancing for joy. She walked through the grasses and wildflowers, enjoying the way they softly tickled her feet and lower legs. She felt the warm sun beating down on her face and shoulders, and she was just happy to be out of the dark.

Suddenly the sun shone a little too brightly, and she lost her balance, falling over something big and hard and cold. Glancing at the "something," a tightness in her chest threatened to tear her apart as she looked at the face. Friend, confidante, her first true love, that once handsome and virile face twisted in agony and blue with death. Strangling on a scream, she tried to back away.

But everything moved in slow motion. She couldn't seem to move as the body began to rise and her lover's face transformed into _his_ face, cruel, menacing eyes and spiky, coal-colored hair. She tried to run, but he grabbed her, closing the gap between them with inhuman speed.

And she realized he could do so because he is _not_ human. He could do whatever he liked to her, and she was powerless to stop him. She made a futile attempt to escape the embrace of his arms, but her soft, pliant body was no match for his hard, unyielding one. She soon grew tired of fighting, and he smirked in triumph before claiming her lips with his. His tongue ravaged the inside of her mouth and seemed to suck all her will power away. She lay limply in his arms, trying to quell the rising storm of pleasure his touch created in her.

He didn't let up his assault, tearing down her defense with every kiss and caress, some gentle, others not. What frightened her most was that the latter often gabe her more pleasure. At this realization, she once more began to battle him, but still he lowered her to the ground, ignoring her renewed protests and struggles. His mouth quieted her screams until they were nothing more but soft whimpers, and when he broke their kiss, he softly brushed her hair away from her eyes, looking at her adoringly and lovingly...

As the sun sank into the horizon, his gaze darkened until there was no tenderness or concern in his eyes, just raging passion and manic obsession. His hands ripped into her clothes, tossing them away as if they were made of nothing stronger than tissue. At the sight of her naked body, he hesitated, taking in his fill of what had haunted him for so long, and he smirked at the tears brimming in her eyes. He leant over her, tenderly kissing her forehead before he violently shoved himself to the hilt inside her tight sheath. Her screams of pain were smothered by a fierce kiss, and, though she felt as if she was splitting in half, he immediately began a pounding rhythm that soon washed away the pain, building unwanted ecstasy inside her mind and body. With each thrust, he claimed a little more of her soul, and by the time they both reached full satisfaction, she too was as wild as he. He gave himself over to the last bit of pleasure with a hoarse cry of her name, and she shuddered once more before she was done.

He buried his face in her silky, sea green hair, inhaling her scent, a mixture of sweat, vanilla, and a fragrance that was simply her. Looming over once more, his face a smirking mask of triumph, he expected to see lazy satiation in her eyes, but found nothing. She returned back into the untouchable goddess that had become his obsession. She simply laid still beneath him, expecting him to get off of her, shame at her weakness clouding her eyes.

This rejection angered him, and his obsession to possess her completely returned in full force. He found that though she thoroughly sated him, he could not get enough of her, would never be able to get enough of her, and his resentment towards her deepened. He swore by the gods he would not be the only one of them completely entranced. He knew the only way he could gain full possession of her was to do the one thing she did not want, and though he vowed never to do it without her permission, he did not care anymore. He could no longer stand the torment of her voice, her face, her body, haunting him all day, and especially all night.

So, he continued his slow manipulation of her flesh, knowing very soon she would once again beg him to touch her. It did not take too long. A kiss or two, a finger slipped into certain areas, a light nip at her breast, and she writhed beneath him, begging for release.

However, his desire to conquer her heart was mush stronger than his desire to conquer her body, and he continued his new assault with a trail of soft kisses along her white, expansive throat, only stopping once he reached the soft juncture of her neck and shoulder. She knew what his was about to do, knowing what harm it will cause, what it will do to her. But, like him, she did not care anymore. Her only thought was fulfillment and an end to the pain of being without him.

As the sting of his teeth biting her warm flesh caused her body to tighten momentarily, she could do nothing but cling to him desperately, feeling, after all the pain and loss, finally at peace and complete. And as he lapped gently at her rich life-blood, they both acknowledge the other's surrender...

"AHHH!" Bulma screamed as she woke from her nightmare. She was at a loss for a few moments as to her whereabouts. She lay on a cold, metal floor, darkness once again blinding her. She fumbled through the blackness for a few minutes while the events of the past few days rolled through her again, and she remembered where she was.

She was on a spaceship, bound to an unknown planet, captive and slave to an arrogant monster who continually haunted her nightmares. Bulma then recalled her grief, grief for the life she had to give up and grief for the man who gave his life trying to protect her.

Had it only been three days ago when her world had fallen apart? She was supposed to have been celebrating a reunion with all her friends, but in the end had watched her first love die and been made the property of his killer, a man who called himself Vegeta, Prince of the Saiya-jins, a race never before heard of by Bulma or any of the other Z warriors, but surely, after the grief and turmoil they have caused, never to be forgotten.

Three of them had come, the Prince and two of his Royal Elite Guard. They claimed Goku was a member of their race, and they demanded to know why he had failed to purge the planet of all life. Goku, of course, had no idea what they had been talking about. The Saiya-jins seemed disgusted by him and declared him a traitor when he revealed he had a son by his human mate. They claimed him weak and impure, not fit to live.

Bulma knew the Saiya-jins could destroy them all. She could very easily sense the immense strength in all of them. It was apparent from their attitude that they wanted a fight, and as all the Z warriors were incredibly brave, none of them backed down from the aliens. Bulma had only wanted to get little Gohan out of the way, so she had dashed up behind Goku to take him to safety. But her movements caught the attention of the alien Prince, and he had pierced her with a gaze so intense that she thought he could see right into her very soul.

It was then that a change seemed to take place among the Saiya-jins, and they began heatedly arguing in their own language, frequently looking her way, making her very sure she was the topic of their discussion. The other two glared at her and seemed to curse her very existence, while the Prince observed her with a triumphant smirk on his proud lips. He seemed to say something the others found incredulous because sounds of doubt and disbelief immediately emanated from them. Bulma was sure this would make the Prince angry, but he only laughed in their faces.

Then he stepped away from them, gave her one final, enigmatic stare, and began to power up to levels she had never before witnessed, a great ball of light growing around him, his hair turning to a brightly colored flame. When he seemed done transforming, the light faded, but his hair remained yellow. His two companions were silent in fear and shock, but that soon gave way to shouts of triumph and victory. They once again looked towards her, not with as much anger and hatred but with more awe than anything else. She gulped nervously and quickly glanced back at the Prince. Bulma hadn't thought it possible, but he seemed even more arrogant and self-righteous than before.

It was then that all the Z warriors pressed in around her, each knowing that the coming battle would be their last. Bulma still didn't know what was going on, and as it had never been her habit to be quiet, she voiced her frustration loud and clear.

"Just what the hell is going on?"

The Prince seemed startled that she would speak, but answered her question. "I have just achieved my ultimate goal of becoming Super Saiya-jin, and now I'm going to destroy this planet and all life on it."

He said it so casually, so flippantly, that Bulma became enraged. "You look more like a super overgrown circus monkey! We've done nothing to you. Why can't you just leave us alone?"

"Dammit, woman, we are not overgrown monkeys! We will destroy this place because you are weak, and we are strong. It is our duty to rid the galaxy of weaklings like those on this planet to make room for the stronger, more superior races!"

"Over our dead bodies!" Bulma shouted back, knowing it wasn't the most witty of remarks but too scared to form anything more original.

The Prince smirked once again, his black gaze roving suggestively over her figure. Bulma shuddered as an unwillingly thrill of anticipation dashed along her spine. Vegeta noticed the woman's reaction, and his smirk grew crueler.

"Well, not your body anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"We'll kill everyone else, but you. You are coming with me," he declared boldly and made a move towards her.

It wasn't until then that she noticed that in her anger, she'd left the relative safety of her friends and had begun walking towards Vegeta. When he made to close the distance between them, she began backing away rapidly.

"Why?" was all she asked.

The Prince laughed again, the warm, scratchy timbre of his voice sending a jolt of heat through Bulma. "Because you are the Key," and as an afterthought, "And because you might make a good whore for one of my men."

She didn't know what Key he was talking about, but she assumed it had something to do with this transformation of his that was so new. _Did I have anything to do with his incredible power jump?_

She had no more time to analyze his answer, though she had a good comeback for the whore remark, but they had reached the point of flight or fight. The Z warriors had silently watched the exchange up until now, shocked into numbness by the power emanating from Vegeta, a bit baffled as to why Bulma was deliberately provoking him, and desperately trying to think of something to do. None of them had a good solution. They knew that if they fought, they would die, but as it seemed that death was their fate either way, they had very little choice. They would fight.

When the Prince did not back away from Bulma, Yamcha became enraged and was the first to engage in an all-out assault. Vegeta, however, saw the attack coming even before Yamcha moved, and as he was still Super Saiya-jin, all it took to bring the Earthling down was a small ki blast from his index finger.

Yamcha was lifted a hundred feet into the air and fell back to the ground with a bone-shattering crunch. Bulma rushed to his side immediately, horrified to see his body broken and bloodied and a fist-sized hole gaping in his chest. Tears flooded her eyes, and sobs shook her body as she watched the life slip from Yamcha's eyes.

He hadn't even been able to say good-bye.

She'd barely had time to close Yamcha's eyes before the bastard Prince had yanked her away. Bulma glared at him, pouring all her hatred and pain into one gaze. Vegeta seemed to hesitate momentarily from her, a look of regret, almost remorse, passing across his arrogant features, but it passed too quickly for Bulma to be sure. She dismissed the thought from her mind. This man was a monster incapable of feeling. She hated with all her heart.

Yet as he pulled her roughly against him, she couldn't help but notice a shudder of something other than fear pass between them. She knew that he had felt it, too. However, they were both too proud and too stubborn to give into such weakness.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes in disgust as he spoke softly to her, "You _will_ come with me if you want to live."

With that, he threw her back to the ground and walked away, as if fully expecting her to meekly follow him in submission. When he didn't feel her fall in line behind him, he turned back to her.

"Woman, get your ass over here, or I'll kill your friends and everyone on this stinking planet!"

Bulma, though her heart was torn in two, stood her ground. "Why the fuck should I, you asshole? You're going to kill them anyway! Why should I make it any easier for you?"

She was breathing heavily by this time, frightened, overcome by grief, and longing only to sink down and fall asleep. However, she wasn't about to go quietly into the good night, not when her only love had just sacrificed himself for her.

She marched over to her friends, wanting them to know that she would stand by them until the end. All of them looked at her sadly, especially Goku. He had no words to express the guilt he felt at his inability to defeat Vegeta. He could possibly do some damage, but the Prince would be victor in the end.

Bulma seemed to know what he couldn't express with words, and she squeezed his hand in silent reassurance. If Goku, the Earth's best warrior, couldn't defeat them, then all was lost. She had only one choice left, really, and she wasn't sure if it would work.

But she had to try.

All she said was, "Live well."

With that, she walked away from the Z warriors and didn't stop until she was a foot away from Vegeta.

"Would it make life easier for you if I came willingly?"

The Prince scowled at the absurdity of her question. "Of course, stupid bitch. But it doesn't matter either way to me."

She bristled at his insult, but forced herself to let it slide. "Fine, but know this: if you kill my friends or anyone else on this planet, I will kill myself the very first chance I get."

The Prince hissed at her threat, wanting no more than to wring her neck, she assumed, from the angry glint in his eye. "How do you know that I want to take you alive that badly?"

"Because, even though I don't know what this 'Key' that you called me is, I know it's important, I know that I'm it, and I know that you _need_ me, alive, to become this Super Saiya-jin thing. Without me, monkey boy, you are nothing."

Vegeta balled his fists, hatred for the truth of her words pouring over him like oil over water. He wanted to strike her down, put her in her place, but he didn't know her threshold for pain...yet. Until then, he could do nothing that would place her in physical jeopardy because she was right. Though the truth was a bitter pill, he _did_ need her. He nodded slightly for her to go on.

"However," she continued, glad that so far he seemed to be listening, "If you will give me your word as a Saiya-jin Prince that no harm shall ever befall any inhabitants of this planet by your hand or any other Saiya-jin, I will go with you willingly and do as you bid."

Vegeta was stone-cold silent for several heartbeats, so Bulma couldn't gauge his immediate reaction. However, his lips once again formed the arrogant smirk she was fast becoming accustomed to.

"Fine, woman, you have a deal, for now. As long as you obey me in all things, your people will be safe from me."

She raised her eyebrows, impatiently waiting for him to finish the rest of the promise.

He sighed in annoyance, but capitulated. "And safe from my people."

The look in his eyes said she had better not add anything else. Bulma swallowed nervously, but then she nodded. "Agreed."

Vegeta then powered down, and his hair returned to its normal black. He scooped Bulma into his arms and yelled to his companions that they were leaving.

As he started to fly away with Bulma, she suddenly shouted, "No!"

The Prince turned his gaze down to the woman, but she was focused on her friends. Several of them had already powered up in an effort to stop the Saiya-jins.

She shook her head at them, pleading, "Don't. Please, just trust me. Please?"

They seemed reluctant, but really didn't have any other choice.

The traitor Kakkarot shouted, "Bulma, I will find you!"

"Please, just let me go, Goku! Don't worry, I'll be back!"

She then gestured to the body of her fallen friend and said, "Wish him back!"

Vegeta saw the others nod, but Bulma knew there was no way he could know that she was referring to the Dragonballs. As he turned away once more to leave, she whispered, "I will, you know."

"Will what, woman?"

"Return here. I won't be your prisoner for very long."

Her comments caused a deep rumble in Vegeta's chest that turned into what sounded like genuine laughter. He honestly seemed amused by her bold statement, though it hadn't been any bolder than ones she'd made earlier. She swore that she would never understand this creature.

Once he'd finished laughing, Vegeta gazed down at Bulma with the same enigmatic expression he'd used just before he'd transformed. "No, little one, you will never return here."

His tone suggested she brook no further argument, and even though they were quite high in the air, Bulma felt strangely very safe in Vegeta's arms. She let her exhaustion and anguish pull her into sleep, and she must have really been out of it because she could have sworn she heard Vegeta say something else before the blackness engulfed her. But she knew there was no way Vegeta would have ever said what she thought she'd heard him say.

She truly could have sworn he'd said, "You are mine now."

As Vegeta flew back to his ship, he studied the young woman asleep in his arms. This day had brought many new surprises and new emotions into his life, some he wasn't so sure he was ready to deal with. There were only three things he knew for sure. One was that he was going to defeat Frieza once and for all. The second was that he would never understand the beauty he carried in his arms. Finally, he also knew that he would never let her go; she was his. He wasn't sure how he knew it, or what he would do with her for that matter, but he knew it all the same.

It was a statement of fact he didn't mind voicing to her right now with her in his arms because he knew for sure that she was asleep.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! Impressed by the sheer number of responses to this thing…didn't know it had legendary status. Thanks! Just how well loved was this story?**

**I thought that I wasn't a review-whore, but I am. I want to know you guys are reading it. I want at least 15 new reviews before I post the next chapter! **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter II - Why Friends Don't Let Friends Drink Dragonsblood**

Other women cloy  
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry  
Where most she satisfies.  
~Shakespeare, _Antony and Cleopatra_

The vast emptiness of space stretched out before Vegeta, dark and silent and void. He stood on the bridge of his ship, monitoring its route back to Vegetasei. Back to home.

It was a planet of fire and air. Volcanoes and desert mountains made up most of its terrain, and the air almost always sizzled with a scorching, dry heat. The wind howled ferociously all day and night, kicking up red and orange dust clouds. It wasn't lush and green and fertile, not like that useless mudball Earth. That planet raised its people to be soft and weak and spoiled. Vegetasei crushed those who were not strong enough to endure its harsh environment.

In all ways, its people were like the planet itself. They were a cruel race, warriors, not farmers or technicians. Saiya-jins carved their lives out of blood, sometimes theirs, sometimes others, but always in blood. Nothing less would satisfy. Honor, pride, duty, all the values of his people, was tied to blood. No matter where a Saiya-jin went, he always had a thirst for blood. To smell, to feel, to taste its rich, red sharpness. Always, always that satisfied a Saiya-jin. His people longed for power; the power to crush; the power to conquer; the power to kill.

Vegeta longed for this too, but there were times when he wondered if there was more to life than just blood and death. _Gods, you fool, stop it._ He was only going to follow a useless train of thought. What was needed now was concentration, clear and undivided attention on the matter at hand: defeating Frieza. It wasn't that he didn't want more from life than just mere killing and bloodshed; he _did_ want a prosperous future. However, if he allowed himself to be distracted now, when he was on the brink of becoming capable of defeating his greatest enemy, he and his people would not have one.

He must concentrate on expanding his powers. He was the Super Saiya-jin. Only he could save his people.

_Yes, but only because of that woman you've got locked in the cell_. There was that voice again, the echoes of all the times he had ever failed, had been made to feel as if he wasn't good enough. It was there to remind him of his imperfection, of the fact that no matter how much he achieved, there was always more. Always more planets to conquer, more people to kill, more power levels to attain. Even when he had first transformed into the Super Saiya-jin, he had felt more power lurking within him, barely able to restrain itself.

And the voice had been there to remind him of how much more he needed to accomplish.

Sometimes the voice motivated him to do better. When he was younger, though, it hindered him more than helped. It rang with all the criticisms he'd ever received from his father, his trainers, Frieza, until one day he'd snapped and discovered that if he was to survive, he could not give a damn about what anyone else thought.

From that moment onward, he controlled his own thoughts. Except for the unusual moments when the voice focused on one particular thought he wasn't ready to deal with. This time around, it was the woman.

Without her, he was nothing. He knew it, Nappa and Radditz knew it, and so would his father and his people once they landed on Vegetasei. Worst of all, she knew it, too, and that gave her power over him.

He loathed his dependence upon her and had already vowed to himself that she would be more dependent upon him. No matter what it took, he would never let her power over him be greater than his over hers. It was perhaps the galaxy's greatest irony that its strongest warrior was nothing without its weakest. Chiudran, his home planet's resident guru and spiritual leader, would appreciate its unifying balance and the seamless circle Nature had built within herself.

All Vegeta could do was rage about the unfairness of it.

The woman was going to be his downfall. Even if she hadn't been the Key, even if she hadn't possessed the ki that complimented and augmented his own considerable life force, she still would have been a distraction. It took all the self-control he possessed not to break down the door to her cell and claim her as his own right then and there. To take full possession of that smart-assed, pouty mouth and tame it to his own liking. To cause her to moan at his very touch, welcome him warmly and fully into her body-

_Fuck!_, he cursed to himself. He could not afford to let his thoughts runaway like that. Yes, the woman was beautiful and exotic, the most appealing woman he had ever laid eyes upon. But she was still a woman, and a weak one at that. He had more self-control than this. Frieza had taught him that.

Immediately Vegeta shut off that train of thought, too. He had been out from under Frieza's thumb for almost ten years, but the uncertain, volatile nature of his early childhood continued to haunt him. _It's over and done. He cannot touch you. He is too afraid_, Vegeta tried to reassure himself. He breathed deeply for several moments, banishing the old demons once again to the darker, deeper recesses of his memory. He would not fail this time in his attempt to kill the bastard. He would not-

Suddenly, a strangled cry echoed from the back of the ship, and Vegeta's thoughts were interrupted by the cause of that miracle. The woman had once again woken up from a nightmare. Though he hadn't spoken more than a handful of words to her since boarding the ship, Vegeta discovered that he had a mild telepathic connection to her. If she were in a state of heightened emotional distress, he could sense it. He figured the connection had developed because of her status as the Key, but some vague thoughts at the back of his mind whispered that it was more than that.

He mentally heard her cry out again, and though irritated by her weakness, Vegeta rose and journeyed to the back of his ship, waving a grumbling Nappa away and back to bed. This problem was his, not his guards', and since he never slept for more than one or two hours at night, the woman was not depriving him of sleep. _Just sanity_, Vegeta smirked ironically.

Punching in the code to unlock the door, he walked in and was surprised to find it in complete darkness. _Doesn't the woman know to touch the light pad?_ Vegeta seemed to remember hearing something about Chikyuu being fairly well-advanced technologically for such a small, insignificant place. But if they hadn't developed understanding of simple electric lighting, how advanced could they be?

Reaching out to touch the light pad, a small box posted about shoulder-height on the wall to the immediate right of the door, the cell was instantaneously filled with light, so much so that the woman whimpered in pain and hid her face in her hands for a moment. Vegeta sighed, irritated by the prospect of playing nursemaid. He was Prince was gods' sakes! Why the hell was he taking care of this weak, blathering woman?

_Because you want to_, echoed the unbidden thought in his head.

Deciding that analyzing his thoughts right now wasn't a good idea, he studied the woman's condition. She was filthy, pale, incredibly thin, and huddled in the far corner. Her frail bodied trembled slightly and tearstains glistened on her cheeks.

Vegeta hissed in a sharp breath of air as he was once again struck dumb by her beauty. For the briefest of moments, he felt true pity for the girl. She was like a goddess; ethereal, winsome, tempting, even in her current pathetic state.

Suddenly she snapped her head up and looked him straight in the eye, her gaze a white-hot flash of fury. "What do you want?"

Her glare and sullen tone crushed any pity Vegeta felt for her.

"Nothing, woman. I just came to see if there was anything you needed."

"Of course I'm in need, you stupid ape! I haven't eaten in three days; I'm thirsty; I'm tired; cold; and in desperate need of a change of clothes and a bath! If you've got any of those to offer, I'll gratefully accept. If not, then leave me the fuck alone!"

Her statements were answered with a ki blast shot into the wall, right above her head. It wasn't strong enough to do anything more than dent the wall, but it impressed the hell out of Bulma. She stared back at the Prince, wide-eyed with fear.

"Woman, don't ever call me ape or monkey. Got it?"

Bulma just nodded, her sea-green curls cascading over her back like a waterfall. Vegeta wondered desperately what it would be like to plunge his hands in all that rich silk, to bury his nose in her fresh, clean scent, to have that soft down trail across his torso as she kissed-

"Uh, excuse me? Hello?" the woman said, tearing him from his fantasy. Unable to hide his sudden embarrassment, his face quickly flushed red, and he wanted nothing more than to get away from her. He started for the door, completely forgetting everything except the desire to escape.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" her indignant voice followed him into the hall. "What about breakfast? Or at least a bath?"

The image of her bathing sprang instantly to his mind, further pushing him towards the edge. "Get it yourself!" he growled over his shoulder, walking away even faster.

At this point, Radditz was coming out of his room. Upon seeing his lord, the soldier readied himself for a standard granting, but the stormy expression on Vegeta's face made him flatten himself against the wall instead in a desperate attempt not to get in his way. The Prince rushed by the soldier, muttering under his breath about women, sea-green hair, and insanity and didn't stop until he slammed himself into the training room.

Radditz peeled himself from the wall as the vigorous sounds of the Prince pushing himself to his limits and beyond began. The Royal Elite Guardsman was a seasoned warrior and had learned many years ago to suppress his emotions. That skill was valuable now, as he contemplated the reason, or rather the person, who caused his lord's ire. Radditz wanted to laugh out loud like a little boy.

Instead, he settled on a knowing smile as he made his way to the galley for food.

"Get it yourself," Bulma mumbled under her breath, irritated by the violent mood swings of the Saiya-jin Prince. She wanted to punch him, or at least take a ball-peen hammer to his head. Anything that would take that stupid, annoying, arrogant smirk off his face and make him realize that he really wasn't better than anyone else.

Her desire to take Vegeta down a peg or two was interrupted by a low, long growl from her empty stomach, reminding her that she had several needs more important than the Prince to attend to. Bulma then focused her thoughts on all that she needed to do, short of actual escape. There was no doubt in her mind that she could get away from these short-tempered gorillas if she wanted to, but she knew Vegeta would come after her.

And the price of his rage would be too high. It already had been. Thoughts of Yamcha flooded through her again, making her feel even greater guilt at the erotic dreams she had been having about the Prince, his murderer. True, she and Yamcha hadn't had a perfect relationship, and there had been times when he'd cheated on her. But he'd never been cruel to her, or killed any of her friends. So why was it that this Prince of the Saiya-jins awakened feelings inside her that made her love for Yamcha look like a grade-school crush?

Bulma shook her head, wanting to just stop thinking about everything. She needed to herself some credit. Not many people would have been able to make the sacrifices she had so far and hold it together. She was strong; she could handle anything, especially the arrogant, though sexy, monster who held her prisoner.

She chose to ignore the "sexy" comment about Vegeta, chocking it up to delirium brought on by exhaustion and hunger. Bolstered by her mental pep talk, she rose from the corner of her cell, grateful for the light and the open door. She poked her head outside the cell, hesitant about what she should do now.

_Oh, what the hell, girl? Just do it!_, she scolded herself. The damned monkey had told her to take care of her needs herself. Secure in that knowledge, she crept out into the hallway. While she could put up a good display of bravado in her head, she didn't think she could stay together should one of the Saiya-jins decide to jump her.

Padding softly down the hallway, she soon found that it opened up into a large, circular room that contained several doors and another hallway. Though she had been hungry, her nerves were too taut to eat. She was also beginning to notice a faint but foul odor slowly creeping around her and upon further inspection discovered it was her.

That decided it. Bath, new clothes first, food later. Gathering all her courage, she dashed across the lobby-like area and into the other hallway. Looking further down the darkened passageway, she saw two open doors, directly across from one another. One looked like a kitchen, and the other was obviously a bedroom. Grateful to know where the food was, Bulma entered the bedroom, noticing another door in it that might lead to a bathroom.

As she crossed the threshold, Bulma was not surprised by the Spartan quality of its decor. There was a large bed, a nightstand, and a chest of drawers. No knickknacks or bric-a-brac to give a hint as to whose room it was. She was surprised, however, to discover two doors in the room. The first she opened turned out to a closet, which contained nothing more than a few blue gis, similar to the one Vegeta always wore.

Anxious over the discovery that she was in his room, she decided the best course of action would be to leave. However, she did want to inspect what was behind door number two, and Bulma had never been one to ignore her curiosity.

Opening the other door confirmed her guess that it was a bathroom. However, the luxury found in this small room contrasted extremely with the barrenness of the bedroom. A vanity spanned one wall, with what looked like two fully functioning faucets and sinks. Mirrors paneled the walls on all sides. Walking into the room, her feet sank into a deep, blood red carpet. A separate shower and tub were across the room from the vanity, and she assumed that the door on the wall opposite her led to a commode area.

She also noticed a shallow linen closet, stock-piled with thick towels, a variety of soaps and shampoos, and several bottles of bubble bath. _What the fuck? The mighty Prince takes __**bubble baths**_**?** she thought, surprised. An image rose unbidden in her mind of the fierce Vegeta sitting in the oversized, claw-footed bathtub, surrounded by a huge mountain of light, fluffy bubbles. She couldn't contain her laughter at the ludicrousness of this.

A sound coming from the hallway brought her out of her fit of hysteria. Creeping slowly back to the door of the bathroom, peering into the bedroom, hoping whoever was ever in the hall didn't see her. When she saw no one, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, a large hand clapped down upon her shoulder, lifting her from the ground. She was roughly hauled from the bathroom and thrown down upon the bed, not seeing the face of her attacker until she sat up groggily on the still-bouncing mattress. She expected it to be Vegeta, but her hazy vision focused on a man taller than he, with a coarse, shaggy mane of hair falling past his waist.

_Radditz..._she tried to remember. He was Goku's brother. The large warrior leaned over her, glaring. "What are doing in here, girlie?"

Bulma cringed at the thunder in his voice, and while it was raspy like Vegeta's, it was also louder and had more bluster. She knew she was really in trouble now and fumbled for a few moments for a coherent answer. "I...I was lo-looking for a place to change clothes and maybe take a bath."

Radditz lifted one bushy eyebrow in doubt. "And you thought you'd do this in the Prince's private bedchamber?"

"I didn't know it was his room!"

The other eyebrow rose.

"Alright, fine. I do know. But I didn't at first! This is totally not my fault! Look, I mean, I didn't try to cause any harm, I'm really sorry, let's just forget about this..."

As Bulma heard the obsequious words tumble from her mouth, something snapped inside her. Why was she apologizing to this overgrown monkey? She didn't owe him any explanations. If anything, it was them who owed her. They were the ones responsible for her current state of misery.

"You know what? Fuck the apology! I don't owe you assholes anything! He said to get whatever I needed for myself, and that's what I'm trying to do. If you've got a problem with that, Mr. Hairy-Ape-Monkey-Whatever-the-Fuck-You-Are, take it up with Satan in hell 'cause I'm outta here!"

Fueled by the rage she'd just vented, Bulma pulled herself off the bed and made her way past the stunned warrior. She tried to hurry, though, because any moment she expected him to grab her and punish her for her insolence.

However, she was not expecting the loud, raucous guffaw that exploded out of him.

She turned to see Radditz doubled over, slapping his knee, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. All her fight went out in that moment, and she sank dazed to the floor. The Saiya-jins were going to destroy her sanity.

Radditz stopped laughing a few moments later, though he was still amused by her spunk. For such a weakling, she definitely had spirit, a quality that would serve her well on Vegetasei if used in moderation. Looking at her small form sitting pathetically on the floor, a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He remembered another spirited girl, his daughter, Amalya. He estimated that she would have been about this woman's age had she not been killed at age ten by a sandtiger.

He decided then and there that he would be the woman's protector at court, with or without the Prince's permission. She would have difficulty adjusting to the harsh life of the Saiya-jins. Many would resent her alien heritage, or they would want to make the blue-haired beauty their own.

"Girl," he said, startling her out of her reverie, "What's your name?"

"Bulma."

"Well then, Bulma, you're dirty and look starved. Let's do something about that, shall we?"

She eyed the hulking man warily, but could see no guile or mockery in his face. Bulma found she had little choice but to trust him. Swallowing to calm her nerves, she simply nodded.

"Good. Follow me."

Turning smartly, he made his way further down the hallway, stopping in front of a door Bulma had missed in her earlier explorations. Radditz smoothly opened the door to reveal another room. He punched a small box on the wall just beside the door, and light filled the room. Bulma remembered vaguely seeing a similar device in her cell. Is that how Vegeta had activated the lights in there? If so, then the Saiya-jins were more technologically advanced than she'd given them credit for.

The new room then occupied her attention. It was a bedroom, and though considerably smaller than Vegeta's, it was also more luxurious. Thick, burgundy pile-carpet covered the floor, and the walls, including the ceiling, dripped with mirrors of every shape and size, making it possible for one to view oneself from every conceivable angle. The big showpiece of the room, however, was the bed. It was in the center of the room on a raised dais and was round in shape, covered by a black satiny coverlet and heaped high with pillows. A large canopy swathed in transparent black gauze hung over it.

The room screamed sex.

Wisely, she made no comment, but did look askance at Radditz. He had the grace to blush slightly and clear his throat before answering.

"Well, you see, this ship is the Prince's personal one. Whenever we travel somewhere, this is the one the Prince and one or two guards use. Sometimes on longer journeys, the Prince brings along some, uh, female, uh, companions. And, and this is where they, uh, sleep. Yes, yes. This is, uh, where they sleep."

Bulma's face grew redder as Radditz rambled through his explanation. She raised her hand for him to stop, letting him know she understood. The embarrassed soldier sighed with relief. He gestured for her to enter the room.

"Well, then, you'll find the bathroom through that door. Everything you might need, including some clothes, should be in there. When you're done, just come to the galley, and you can eat."

Bulma murmured a faint word of thanks and didn't realize the warrior had left until she heard the door quietly slide shut. Now that she was alone again, she felt a huge wash of relief. She was grateful for Radditz' fatherly concern, but the events of the last few days were still too new, still too raw, for her to attempt to form any bonds with these strange creatures.

Snapping herself from her thoughts, she made a beeline for the bathroom. The bedroom carried too many whispers of forbidden pleasures for her to be completely comfortable in it. Unfortunately, however, the bathroom proved to be just as sensual and dark.

Both the vanity and the large, sunken tub were made of a black, marble-like material. Burgundy silk covered the walls, and she was relieved to discover a considerable lack of mirrors in the room, though she did find one hanging right above the tub. It was vaguely disturbing, but she pushed all erotic thoughts from her mind.

Looking into the linen closet, she found towels, shampoo, and soap, much like those in Vegeta's bathroom. However, she also found candles, incense, and a few other interesting devices that she just labeled miscellaneous bath toys for adults. These she left alone, taking only a fluffy towel and some citrusy-smelling soap. She learned that the faucets for the tub and the sink were similar to those on Chikyuu; only for hot and cold water you pressed buttons instead of turning knobs.

As she let the tub fill with steaming water, Bulma went in search of clothes. However, she found nothing but skimpy lingerie and erotic-looking costumes. She decided her only course of action would have to be to wash her current clothes, teal shorts and a white tank top, in the tub after her bath.

She stepped into the warm tub and regretted her lack of time to luxuriate. However, her hunger was growing, so she quickly scrubbed away the grime and dirt from her body and hair. Then she washed her clothes and hung them to dry.

Now her only problem was what to wear to go eat. A towel wrapped around her, she padded from the bathroom and into the bedroom, hoping perhaps to find clothes more appropriate than those in the bathroom drawers. There was no closet in the room, but Bulma did find a small nightstand with one drawer. However, it was filled with more lingerie, though things only in ivory. She found a satin robe that was long and deemed she had to make do with that.

As she was turning back towards the bathroom, robe in hand, Bulma couldn't help but notice her reflection in the many mirrors. Her pale blue-green hair and translucent skin stood out in shocking relief against the darkness of the room. She did look better than she had since being kidnapped and really didn't know the next occasion she would be able to choose her clothes.

She decided to indulge herself a bit and returned to the drawer with all the ivory underwear, selecting a lacy thong and a push-up bra. She rationalized that she had to wear something under the robe, and as her things were wet, she had very little choice. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone was going to see her in them.

Quickly donning the ivory clothes, she reveled in their silky texture, and then towel dried her hair. She wished desperately for a blow dryer to help tame her wild and wavy locks, but had not found one. By this time, though, she was ready to damn her hair because she was so hungry.

She found Radditz seated at a table in the galley, peeling what looked like an orange, only it was blue. Upon hearing her enter, he gestured for her to take a seat next to him, only glancing at her as she rounded the table.

He dropped the fruit.

She looked like a goddess. Her blue hair flowed wildly down her back, and her skin glowed with a radiant inner light. The harsh light of the galley penetrated the thin material of her robe, letting him see clearly what lay underneath.

Bulma had frozen instantly, worried that she'd committed some sort of cardinal sin. "What's wrong?"

Coughing, he tried to regain his composure and asked, "Isn't there something more appropriate you could wear?"

Bulma looked down at her robe-clad figure, silently thanking the gods she'd had the sense not to wear any of the other stuff she'd found. If Radditz reacted badly to a robe that covered her from head to toe, how would he have reacted if she'd worn something skimpier? Then she remembered what little underwear she had on and couldn't suppress a grin. _At least he can't see that!_

"No, there isn't. This was the most decent thing I could find."

She began to move again towards the chair next to Radditz, but he shook his head, pointing to the chair across from him. Confused, Bulma did as he bid.

"Whatever," was all he said to the matter of her dress. No need telling her that Vegeta's favorite color was ivory and that it was what he always made his "female companions" wear. The Prince probably wouldn't be done training for another few hours anyway. By then, her other clothes would be dry. He wouldn't even see her.

He finished peeling the fruit and handed it to Bulma. She sank her teeth into its fleshy sweetness and sighed contentment. Radditz grinned at her, but said nothing, only taking several more exotic-looking fruits from a bowl in the center of the table. He sat and peeled them, handing each to Bulma as she finished the last. It was a ritual he'd performed with his daughter every morning when he was home. At least, it had been before she'd died. He tried to push the thoughts away.

Bulma wanted to ask him why he was being so nice to her, but was afraid to for fear that he'd get angry and turn mean. Instead, she asked a simpler question. "Why don't you eat some fruit?"

"Saiya-jins don't eat fruit."

She waited for more to be added, but after several moments of silence decided that she would have to ask more general questions to get a better answer.

"So...what do Saiya-jins eat?"

"Meat."

A moment of silence.

"What kind of meat?"

"Red."

Once more, silence.

"How do you like your meat cooked?"

"Raw."

"Oh."

The silence that followed was one Bulma was unwilling to break. She had become full by this time, and Radditz rose from his chair. He returned an instant later with a glass of some cool red liquid. She looked at it curiously, as it had a highly odd scent.

"What is it?"

"Dragonsblood."

"Uh, that's okay. I'll just stick with good, ol' water.

"It's alright. It's not really the blood from a dragon. If it were, it'd be thicker and green."

Bulma let the story on how he'd found that out slide.

"I've got some knowledge of Chikyuu, but the name for a drink similar to dragonsblood escapes me. What is that you drink to relax?"

A frown marred her pretty features for a moment.

Radditz explained further, "It's a brown-yellow color, comes in a bottle...

Understanding shone in Bulma's eyes as she yelled, "Beer!"

Radditz nodded recognition, though he could have sworn that the name of the drink he'd been thinking of was also the name of an actual person. However, that thought was lost when Bulma still refused the drink.

"I don't need anything."

"It will help calm your nerves."

"What's wrong with my nerves?"

"I don't know, but you seem awfully damned talkative."

Bulma's face just went blank. Then her mouth twisted into an ironic smirk. _I guess Saiya-jins aren't very good at small talk_, she mused. Realizing it wasn't something she could change, Bulma dropped the thought and returned her attention to the glass before her. If she drank it, Radditz would be pleased, and if was the equivalent of beer, then one or two wouldn't hurt. Now, if it were Jack Daniels or Jim Beam, she'd be doing a strip tease after just one sip, but on beer, she'd be okay. She decided to just go with the flow and downed the dragonsblood in three swallows. It burned on its way down, but had a pretty good taste. She instantly wanted more.

Radditz shook his head at her request, already annoyed that she'd downed the potent drink so fast. "No, Bulma, three glasses of dragonsblood have been known to drive warriors twice your size out of their minds. You don't need any more. Maybe later."

The look in Radditz' eyes told Bulma not to press for more dragonsblood now. Instead, she sat back in her chair and relaxed. The red liquid was helping her mellow out, and perhaps that's why the next question popped out of her mouth.

"Is the Prince married?"

Radditz' eyes bugged. He hadn't expected her to ask such a question and didn't really know how to answer. He decided that though it was an impertinent question, there was no harm in answering it.

"No."

"Hmm..." was all that Bulma replied.

Then she asked, "Why was I taken?"

Radditz yet again wasn't sure how to answer. She was the Key. Why would she have been left on Chikyuu? Before he could answer, though, she plied him with more questions.

"Am I to become one of the Prince's, uh, female companions? Am I his slave? What am I to him, other than this whole Key business? And what does Super Saiya-jin mean?"

The warrior truly felt pity for her confusion. He had honestly thought Vegeta had explained her importance but obviously he'd been mistaken. Radditz believed she deserved to know the truth and what was expected of her.

"You haven't been brought with us to be his Highness' 'female companion.' You do belong to him, but you are more valuable than a mere slave. With you by his side, he will be able to conquer his greatest enemies."

"But what does that have to do with being Super Saiya-jin?"

"Super Saiya-jin is the highest level of power we can attain, but it hasn't been done in over a thousand years. No warrior has ever met his Key, the one being whose ki is the complete compliment to his. With his Key found and by his side, a warrior can reach levels of power originally thought to be impossible. Legend states that a warrior will know his Key the moment his ki brushes hers. Thus Vegeta immediately recognized you as his and transformed to the Super Saiya-jin."

"So what you're saying is that the Prince needs me?"

Radditz hesitated. To admit the need of a person, fully and completely, was to give him or her total power over you. He was not in a position to grant this power over the Prince to her. So he settled for the diplomat's way out.

"Well, in order to transform into the Super Saiya-jin, yes, Vegeta does need you."

By this time, the dragonsblood had worked its way through Bulma's bloodstream, and she was feeling very relaxed. Radditz' admission also gave her joy. Now maybe she wouldn't feel so helpless in front of the Prince. He needed her.

She decided it was time for another glass of dragonsblood.

However, Radditz once again shook his head no. Bulma was none too pleased by this response. The drink hadn't tasted all that strong earlier, and besides, she felt fine. She really, really wanted more.

Grinning slyly at the older alien, she said, "Okay, but I can't guarantee if my nerves will stay calm. And when they're not calm, I talk an awful lot. I can't guarantee how quiet I'll be..."

Radditz took on a deer-caught-in-headlights look at her threat and quickly rose to make her another glass. It would put her to sleep, and she'd be fine. Before he handed it to her, however, he said, "You must drink this one slowly. Promise?"

Bulma smoothed her features into a look of angelic innocence, nodded, and grabbed the glass. She downed it in one huge gulp and let out a hurrah of victory. "Here's to me having power over the Prince!"

She then promptly slumped over the table, out cold, and it was at this point that Vegeta stalked into the room. Radditz knew by the look on the Prince's face that he'd heard Bulma's last comment.

He cringed as he expected a verbal bashing about his weakness and irresponsibility, but Vegeta stopped cold as he saw Bulma stretched out on the table, her robe loosened, exposing pale skin. He turned a pained gaze to his trusted friend and guard.

"What the fuck is she doing wearing ivory?"


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the wonderful feedback you guys are leaving! It's amazing!**

**Clarification: As the A/N says in the first chapter, this story is AU. That stands for Alternate Universe, meaning that some, if not all, artistic license is used to change certain events and characters from canon. For example, in canon, Radditz is dead. However, in my story, an AU, he is not. Just wanted to jog everyone's memory so no more "oppsies" happen.**

**Warning: M/f dub-con in this chapter. If this type of event disturbs or traumatizes you, please do not read on.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter III - Plans and Regrets**

To be weak is miserable,  
Doing or suffering.  
~John Milton

The sight of the sleeping and _silent_ woman in satin ivory underwear was not what Vegeta had expected to see upon walking into the galley. But it was the sight that had met his eyes, and he'd had numerous options in how to initially react to the situation. He could have asked why there was so much noise going on, or made a comment about why Radditz wasn't training. He could have demanded to know why the soldier with the woman in the first place, or he could have even just simply inquired as to why there were so many fruit peelings on the table.

But, no. He hadn't chosen any of those reactions.

Instead, his mind and his senses had focused on _her_ and her state of dress. Or undress, if he continued listening to a particular part of his anatomy. To make matters worse, Radditz was there, able to bear witness to his lack of control, his weakness. But come to think about it, _Why __**was**__ Radditz there?_ As the shock of the woman started to fade, Vegeta quickly began to consider other anomalies in the situation.

"What is going on, Radditz?," he questioned softly.

Radditz nervously cleared this throat. He seemed to doing that a lot lately, he thought to himself. But he knew there was no escape from the shame he had let befall him. "She had a little too much dragonsblood, Oujisama."

"WHAT?," Vegeta snarled. He couldn't believe the stupidity of his usually highly-reliable guard. But how the situation came to be didn't matter right then. He needed to get the woman to bed, and though he wanted nothing more than that, these were not exactly the circumstances under which he wished it to happen.

The woman stirred slightly, murmuring unintelligibly and shifting her position. The robe opened wider, exposing more porcelain skin. Vegeta felt the heat of desire fly through his body once again. _Dammit!_ When would he become accustomed to her body? _Never, _the voice whispered in his head. He sneered, his innate self-superiority responding with an immediate denial, more than willing to engage his subconscious in another internal debate over the woman.

However, the woman began to cough and convulse violently. Both Radditz and the Prince reached her side at the same moment, and Vegeta was once again forced to question what his companion had been doing with the woman. The look of concern and protectiveness on the older Saiya-jin's face was more than a mere human weakling should warrant in one such as he, even if she was the Key.

"Bulma?" Radditz asked softly, not noticing the Oujisama's close scrutiny. Vegeta had to stifle the jealous urge to singe Radditz' head to ash when he realized the warrior had learned the woman's name before him.

She heard Radditz' voice calling to her, and Bulma opened her eyes slowly, groggily, unable to focus. She was aware only of the fact that two very large men were in very close proximity to her, and she felt irritation that they should be so close to her as she was sleeping. One did smell rather nice, though, like sweat and salt and, well, man. Then she knew no more as blackness once again consumed her.

Vegeta caught Bulma easily in his arms, once again marveling at her lightness, her fragility. He swept her into his arms and was rewarded for his services by her snuggling deeper into his embrace. _Every time we meet, little one, I end up carrying you_, he thought tenderly. But then he immediately scowled when he realized he was once again allowing himself to be drawn in by her power. He also noticed that Radditz watched his Prince with a wary eye, as if he did not trust him.

Irritated and angered, Vegeta barked his orders to the soldier. "Clean this place, and then warm up. We spar in an hour."

"It will be as you command," Radditz replied with a slight bow. He realized that any resistance or questions would only goad the young man further.

Vegeta stalked out of the galley and strode across the hall to his own room. He hesitated, as if rethinking his course. But then he completely turned directions and headed towards the courtesan's den, even though he knew he might be making a huge mistake, but also driven by the fact that he no longer gave a damn.

He gently laid Bulma upon the bed, knowing it to be softer and easier to sleep in than the one in his room. His customary smirk graced his lips as he thought of all the conquests he had made in this room. Usually he took a woman (or several) after he'd won an important battle or defeated a particularly challenging enemy. Vegeta didn't make it a practice to fuck anything female and breathing, like some of his race did, but he by no means practiced celibacy. A woman was his reward to himself after doing well on the battlefield, and as there had been many battles well fought, so too had there been many women. All those women, some of them the most beautiful and highly-skilled in the galaxy, became nonexistent next to this blue-haired beauty from next to nowhere, who he very much suspected was a virgin.

He grinned at the thought, his chest puffing out with masculine pride, at the thought of being the first to initiate her into the pleasurable world of bed play. The thought that she'd had others before him caused a dark scowl to cross his face, black jealousy rolling in his stomach, but he dismissed it from his mind. Even if she wasn't pure, she would never know another man's touch, save his own, from now on. _I haven't even tasted her lips, and yet she has me completely entranced._

It then hit him then, that he would never, _never_, let her go. She was in his blood just as sure as the harsh crags and mountains of Vegetasei. Just as much as the lust for battle sung through his veins. She had ruined him for others, just with her mere presence, and he vowed to himself no one else would ever touch her. He would kill her before he let that happen.

But he truly never expected things between them to come to that. He was Prince of the Saiya-jins, heir to the throne and the most powerful of his kind. Soon, he would be the most powerful in the galaxy. It was inconceivable that she should not welcome him with open arms. _And open legs_, he mused.

The feelings of weakness, rage, helplessness, against the sweet torment that was this woman seemed to subside, at least for a while. He couldn't say that were not going to come back, but he knew the conflict they caused him were nothing compared to the battle he'd waged these last three days not to touch her. As Prince, he was not used to reigning in his desires. Why should he start now?

The thought of his considerable position gave him pause. As prince, he would normally never be allowed to take her as his mate. It was simply unheard of. A Saiya-jin warrior could take an alien concubine or sex slave to his bed all he wanted, but he could not poison the purity of his race's blood with that of a foreigner's.

Children produced from such unions, while allowed to live, were often regarded as nothing more than, well, nothing. They could not rise among the ranks of warriors; they could not lay claim to any holdings or property of their Saiya-jin parent; and they could definitely not bear the heir to the throne of Vegetasei.

Perhaps if Bulma were a strong warrior, with power comparable to his own, tradition could be changed for the sake of her status as Key. However, Vegeta hardly believed that would ever happen. At some point in time he would have to take an appropriate mate, if for breeding purposes only. He wasn't quite sure how Bulma would react to such an arrangement. _Oh, well. It doesn't really matter._

It would not stop him from claiming her, this very night.

The knowledge that Bulma was his made the Prince swell with a sense of pride and victory. Though he knew she was a weakness, he didn't feel weak. In fact, thinking about possessing her made him feel stronger, more vibrant, more alive. Of course, he was also in the throes of a huge ego trip. He had fully convinced himself that, while she did have a certain measure of power over him, soon, very soon, he would tame that power and bend it to his will, as he had done with every other possession he'd owned. The challenge of molding her spirit to his liking was fast becoming just as much a turn on as the woman herself.

Looking at the ivory-clad beauty laying supine in the bed, her pale coloring contrasting wonderfully with its dark coverings, Vegeta knew it wasn't a question of if, but when. He would gain more power over her than she had of him and force her complete and total capitulation to his will.

At that particular moment, conquering her was what he wanted most in the universe.

He was the Prince of the Saiya-jins.

He always got what he wanted.

With that final thought, he left the woman resting after he'd made sure her sleep was one of rest, not a fever brought on by the dragonsblood. Satisfied that she would be fine, he made his way to the training room, planning to work up a good appetite for the night's later activities.

Vegeta had already developed a plan that would integrate Bulma into his life as smoothly as possible. As the Key, she was in a very precarious position. She would not, of course, be allowed her freedom. However, she would also be guarded against any who might do her harm. While Vegeta did not disagree with this, he would not be allowed to protect her. In fact, he'd probably rarely see her. The Super Saiya-jin and his Key together would make too easy a target for an assassination attempt. This separation was unacceptable to the Prince. Vegeta could barely stand being away from her right now, and she was only down the hall.

So, his plan was simple. No one would know Bulma's true identity until the need for the Super Saiya-jin became dire. The blue-haired woman was a special treasure picked up after a disappointing recon mission. If the plan didn't work, he'd come up with something else. The means to his end were not important, but the woman would be his. He would not risk losing her before he'd even had a chance with her. She would be a part of his life, and he would not let her go.

Now that he could admit that without self-recrimination, he felt lighter, more unburdened than he had felt since first meeting her. His pride did still resent her power over him. However, it was counterbalanced by his determination to control that power. If he couldn't, he would kill both of them trying.

Approaching the training room, Vegeta knew it was time to see if his plan was going to work. Fooling the Court would be no problem, as long as he could make Nappa and Radditz vow to never breathe a word about Bulma's identity as Key without his permission. Vegeta was not worried about his old sensei; Nappa would give his Ouji-sama anything, even his head big, meaty head on a silver platter, if that was what Vegeta required.

Radditz was a different story. The older warrior had served Vegeta well in the ten years he'd been a member of the Prince's Royal Guard. But the way Radditz had been looking at the girl, no matter that the look had been more fatherly than lustful, had planted seeds in Vegeta's head that he must watch the third-class-soldier-turned-Elite-Royal-Guard more closely, at least for the next few months. The request he would make of Radditz would be one step in the journey of deciding if his warrior's loyalty was waning.

He was jostled from his thoughts as the wall beside him suddenly caved outward. Vegeta grinned. Whatever the state of Radditz' loyalties, he could always be counted upon for a good fight. Forgetting momentarily the dangerous deception he was about to embark upon, Vegeta entered the training room and felt the singing heat of battle embrace him. He was home.

She was dreaming again. She knew this because it was the same dream she'd been having for three straight days. This time, however, she seemed to be watching the actions instead of actually experiencing them, almost like an out-of-body experience.

She saw herself walking in the field, tripping over the body, realizing it was her dead lover. She saw herself try to run, only to be caught by that body as it transformed into _him. _Bulma wanted to scream at herself to run harder, to not give in, that the tender look he was giving her at the moment was just a lie, a ruse, to try and manipulate her into submission. Any minute he would turn angry and mocking and cruel. She tried screaming all of this to her dream-self, felt her throat turn raw with the sheer violence of her screams, but what echoed back was only silence.

Then the moment came. His once-tender lips transformed into his arrogant smirk, his eyes glazed over with mania, his embrace tautened with possessive jealousy. Bulma wept aloud for her dream-self, for the humiliation, the cruelty, the pain, she was about to suffer underneath this monster.

But then something strange happened.

Just as suddenly as the demon had appeared, it vanished, leaving only the man and the woman joining in a fevered, but loving, embrace, as if starved for one another. No pain, anger, jealousy, or sadness clouded their passion. Only they existed, and their love.

He began caressing her tenderly, and she did the same to him. They explored one another's body with a shy reverence, tumbling and laughing in the wildly-blowing grasses with carefree abandon.

Suddenly Bulma felt herself once again in the dream. She was being caressed, kissed, stroked into heavenly oblivion, and she knew instinctively that it was right and good and pure.

And she allowed herself to give way to the pleasure, to embrace it...no, _him_, fully, lovingly, for eternity...

Vegeta left the sparring session and entered his 'playroom', as he liked to call it, feeling fully invigorated. Both his guardsmen, though not as strong as he, were incredibly powerful and always gave their Prince their best. Of course, Vegeta could do no less than they, and despite his not having transformed into the Super Saiya-jin, both warriors would be spending the night in the regen tanks.

He was also very satisfied that his plan was going to work. Both Nappa and Radditz had agreed without comment to his demand, and he hadn't even had to offer an explanation as to why. Nappa, of course, questioned nothing the Ouji-sama did or said. His absolute loyalty had never, would never, be in doubt.

Radditz was more difficult. He had surprised the Prince when he had nodded his agreement unhesitatingly right along with Nappa. Vegeta had, however, seen a spark of suspicion in Radditz' gaze. But as long as his men's actions were loyal, Vegeta didn't give a fuck about what they thought. _At least not tonight, _he thought as he leered at the woman in his bed.

She was still asleep as Vegeta padded quickly across the room to the bed, discarding clothing, gloves, and boots along the way. He slowed his approach as he neared the foot of the bed, drinking in the sight of her. She was a goddess reincarnated, he decided, sent to ensnare him with her beauty. Though Vegeta was not usually poetic in his description of women, this one did something to him that no other had before. He desired her above all else in this world, not just physically. He also longed to master her spirit. He wanted her to be his in all ways possible. He ached to possess her.

He just wished he had a name for this new emotion.

Unable to resist temptation any longer, he crawled onto the bed, stretching out beside her. She lay on her back, though her robe had somehow been removed and was now pinned beneath her. By the disarray of the coverlet and pillows, Vegeta could only assume that she'd been having more nightmares. This thought caused his brow to frown in displeasure as he ran a few silky strands of her blue hair through his fingers. He was unsettled by the thought of her in distress.

But then a soft moan escaped her lips, and his thoughts once more turned to claiming her. _I will help her to have no more cause for nightmares_, he smirked arrogantly as he ran his finger across her torso, easily unhooking the front clasp of her bra and releasing her breasts. He marveled at their exquisite perfection as his hand lightly grazed the undersides of those succulent globes and trailed down to the satiny flesh of her thighs. At the slightest sensation of his flesh upon hers, she moaned again.

Vegeta's control began to slip, and raising himself above her, he captured her mouth with his, gently nipping her full lower lip with his teeth. He kissed her softly, but then harder as she opened her mouth and pulled him to her. Their tongues mated frantically as Vegeta continued running his hands up and down long, lithe form, ripping away her panties as if they were tissue.

It was only when he broke the kiss that he realized she was still in the netherealm of unconsciousness. _Perhaps the dragonsblood was too much for her_, he thought with a wicked grin. He knew exactly how to waken her.

Nudging her thighs apart with his knee, he positioned himself at her entrance, lightly teasing her folds to increase her excitement. She gasped and arched against him violently, pressing her breasts into his chest. Vegeta lost all control and, in one powerful motion, thrust into her tight, warm sheathe. As he felt her virginity yield, he kissed her once more, hard and fast, swallowing her high gasp of pain as she fully awakened. Pulling away from her lips, his black eyes met her tear-filled blue ones.

"No," she whispered slowly, as if in disbelief. "No! Please, gods, no!"

"Hush, little one," Vegeta murmured, nipping her delicate nose before burying his own in her hair. His breath warm and tickled her ear as he continued, "The pain will lessen in a moment."

She continued breathing shallowly, feeling the pain ebb, but not her panic. Her mind was too clouded, she couldn't tell if she was dreaming or not.

His voice echoed again in her again, "Hush, little one. Feel me, and know that you are mine."

But she began struggling against his iron embrace, yelling "No!" louder and more emphatically.

Vegeta raised himself, trying to regain his tight hold on her, but then he saw the hate in her eyes, hate behind the pain and confusion. Hate for him. His mind snapped in a wild rage, and he began moving again, roughly pinioning her arms above her with one wrist. His other hand traced her face, her throat as she writhed and thrashed beneath him, as he continued moving within her, wanting nothing more than to conquer her rebellion. Her body arched in both panic and ecstasy under him, and he began to taste victory over her...

One of her arms broke free...

And he was flying through the air, pain ripping through his chest, tearing him in half, as she screamed a final, resounding, "NO!"

He landed against the wall, smashing mirrors, hearing their twinkling, feeling tiny grains of metal and glass grazing into his skin as he crashed into the floor. Across the room, Bulma had raised to her knees, still in shock and confusion, eyes streaming an endless flow of tears, a faint, yellow glow illuminating her right hand.

Panting, she raised her other hand against him, as if to ward off another attack. "No," she whispered.

Then she collapsed.

Vegeta lay on the floor, broken glass all around him, stunned by the pain in his shoulder, vaguely wondering how the woman had managed to blast him with a ki beam. He was more haunted, however, by the intensity of the rage and hatred he had seen burning in Bulma's beautiful aquamarine eyes.

_By the gods, what have I done?_

He'd killed more people on more planets than he could remember. Purging missions never bothered him. The suffering of innocents had no effect upon his soul. In fact, he had reveled in the blood and gore he could cause with just one blast from his hands.

The very same hands that had nearly broken, may still very well have broken, the most precious thing he had ever found.

_Her eyes...such a beautiful blue..._

He continued to sit, quiet, still, glass embedded in his back and legs, fire eating his chest, but all that pain forgotten as the image of her eyes burned in his mind.

A/N: Okay, I'm glad that's over. I'm not really in to dub-con, but it's necessary for later on. Don't worry. Vegeta will begin to regret his actions, and now you know that Bulma can fight back.

I love reviews! Vegeta will be angry if you don't tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 4A

A/N: Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews! I appreciate your time and feedback! The response has helped me gain confidence in my writing.

**Chapter 4A - Resistance is Futile**

Who overcomes  
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.  
~John Milton

Vegeta wasn't sure how many minutes ticked by as he remained on the floor, haunted by her eyes. _So much pain and rage..._It seemed like eternity, but it couldn't have been that long because the next thing he remembered was looking up to find Nappa and Radditz by his side, staring at him in wide-eyed stupor. He glanced over at the door, seeing a gaping hole instead, and it registered he hadn't even heard them blast into the room.

_I must look like complete shit_, he thought. Saiya-jins were taught from birth to never show emotion except arrogance and anger, were trained to slide their faces into an icy mask of stone. This usually happened when their emotions were running their highest.

Sometimes, however, events were too astonishing not to react blindly. What had occurred in this room surely qualified for such an event, if the look of blank amazement on both men's faces was any indication. _I cannot continue to let them see me like this. I must not lose any more face than I already have._

He slid his face into an impassive mask, but inside his emotions battled a war he was not sure he could win.

Vegeta had heard of such emotions like regret, remorse, guilt, indecision, but he knew he had never felt them before. His stomach churned violently, and he felt that perhaps he had made a mistake in taking the woman the way he had. He felt the desperate need to take back the last few moments rise within him. It came quickly and violently, not allowing him time to take a defensive position. It ate at his limbs like a sickness, like acid pouring through his stomach, his heart. The Prince of the Saiya-jins was supposed to have a heart of ice. This one girl had not only chipped at it, but was also melting it. It hadn't evaporated yet, not by a long shot, but definite pools of water were beginning to form at its base.

_What the fuck?_, he roared inside his head. He did not know how to process these unfamiliar feelings and relegated them to the back of his mind. _I am Prince of the Saiya-jins! How dare this mere woman make me doubt myself. _

His arrogance and self-righteousness resurrected themselves in his mind, and he realized that two members of his guard were staring at him, stupefied.

Kneeling at Vegeta's side, Nappa raged, "Who did this, my Prince?"

Vegeta gestured for the burly man to rise, to move away from him. He didn't need both hulking monkeys crowding him at this point. _She's already affecting my opinion of my own race,_ he though wryly, rising slowly to his feet. His naturally advanced healing powers, enhanced even for a Saiya-jin, were already putting him on the mend, and the pain in his shoulder was barely a dull ache. The glass embedded in his flesh twinkled to the ground in a cloud of shimmering dust, his skin being too tough and impervious for the miniscule shards to penetrate. He stood proud to his full height, already cursing himself for showing weakness before his men, not caring that he wore not a stitch of clothing. However, even injured and nude, he still commanded their full respect.

"In answer to your question, sensei," he said quietly, considering his words carefully, weighing their full import. "She is the one who did this."

All three heads immediately turned to the young woman sprawled on the bed, noticing her uncovered nudity. _Shit!_ Vegeta was perfectly comfortable with his nudity, but definitely not hers in front of any other man.

"Turn your heads!" he snapped as he stalked to the bed. He reached for a sheet to cover her, once again losing his breath just looking at her. A quick ache tightened in his groin. _But the price of my lust is too high_, he thought, her blue, blue eyes flashing in his mind.

"She blasted me," he said finally, simply, without inflection. "That's how this happened."

"But how?" muttered Nappa. "She's a weakling Chikyuu-jin bitch! I should kill her for this outrage!"

In his anger, the big Saiya-jin began to rapidly power up, but Vegeta blurred before him, his hand around Nappa's throat before the man even had time draw another breath after this threat. The Prince's face was contorted into a twisted, animalistic snarl, his eyes burning with a fierce and primal rage. He held his old trainer in a death grip for over a minute before slowly releasing pressure, neither one of them breathing until this point.

Nappa staggered to his knees as Vegeta stepped back. "Never threaten what is mine unless you mean to challenge me," he whispered, his razor-sharp voice cutting violently into the silence.

Still panting, Nappa could only nod his understanding. Vegeta's attention then turned to Radditz. The other soldier had been quiet throughout the exchange, but he was also a man who weighed his words before speaking and his actions before attacking. It was one of the reasons why, even though conflict was beginning to build between them over the woman, Vegeta still respected the man's opinion.

"Nappa, leave us," he ordered. "Bring me a set of slave bracelets with my seal on them. Fix one with a ki-diffuser chip set to a maximum level of 5,000."

The man rose to his feet, no longer panting, but still red-faced, and left the room, eager to do his lord's bidding. Vegeta once again sought Radditz' gaze, noting with irritation the accusation in the man's dark brown eyes. _Here's the beginning_, Vegeta thought, regretting the rift dividing the two men. Radditz had somehow developed an attachment to the girl in the short time he'd known her, perhaps a bond as strong and immovable as Vegeta's. He felt the jealousy curl inside him once more, but he quickly pushed it down. Radditz only wanted what was best for Bulma, and Vegeta's way was the only one.

"It must be done," he said firmly.

"Must it, Ouji-sama?" Radditz shot back, his voice a low growl.

Vegeta's body stiffened at the affront of his soldier's doubt. He needed Radditz' cooperation, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to get it. "Yes," he hissed. "It must."

"Really?" came more disbelief. "Are you sure? Is this not just another way to deny her her freedom? Deny her what is hers by rights? She's the Key, not some common palace whore! She deserves to be treated better. But, knowing you as I do, my Prince, you must always have a new toy, preferably one with a little spirit, so that you can bend her, sometimes even break her, to your will!"

Vegeta tensed, his entire body humming with suppressed rage. "You dare to question me?"

Radditz, though he knew he tred very dangerous ground, nodded. "In this instance, yes, I do." A momentary pause. Then somberly, "She is about the age Amalya would have been, had she not died. She has something of her looks, too. In the eyes. Both of them have...had...blue eyes."

The Prince listened to the words of his faithful vassal, and the truth hit home. Bulma had become Amalya to Radditz, and as such, she was worth dying to protect. The Prince found himself facing regret yet again. Radditz did not have designs on the woman; he only wanted to protect her. Realizing this, Vegeta let go of some of his rage, but not his resolve. He would have his way in this matter.

He sighed. "Radditz, you have always served me well. But your judgment in this issue is clouded."

"And yours isn't...Ouji-sama? Since when did you start thinking with your dick?"

Vegeta's rage swelled again, and he almost lost control of his temper. The man was pushing his limits, more so than any other warrior ever had. However, before he beat the shit out of Radditz, he **would** get his agreement on this. "Dammit, man! I'm trying to preserve her life! You saw how Nappa reacted. You see the wounds on my chest. She did this! Her power level topped out at 50,000. That's more than most Saiya-jins achieve after a lifetime of intensive training!"

He realized he was shouting now. Radditz, however, seemed unfazed, his face a mask of stony doubt. He knew he had to change tactics. Though he usually didn't give a fuck about what others thought, in this matter he needed another person on his side. Perhaps he was still trying to convince himself that he was right in what he was about to subject the woman to. He didn't know. All he knew was that with a significant ki, Bulma's life was in danger, and Vegeta would do anything to protect her, even if it caused her short-term pain.

"Can you feel it?" he inquired, his voice just above a whisper. "She is out there. Faint, but growing stronger as we speak."

Vegeta referred to her ki signature, of course, as Radditz knew. Usually weak sentient beings such as the Chikyuu-jin had such a low reading, that is was just easiest to block them from the peripherals of the mind. The ki was weak and would never grow, thus it was easy to disregard and block. If left unchecked, it would tease the mind, adding more layers of information to sift through, and that could prove to be eventually maddening. Radditz didn't think opening himself up to the woman's ki again would be useful, but he did it anyway. He unlocked the part of his psyche from which flowed his own ki and mentally skimmed the edges of the air.

That was when he felt it. A new ki! As the Prince had said, it was faint, but also growing rapidly. _Too rapidly..._His gaze swept to the woman's sleeping form, his mind still processing her abilities. How in Hell can a body at rest have a rising ki? It was unheard of. Even Vegeta's ki, the strongest Radditz had ever known, did not rise when he slept.

The prince heard Radditz' sharp hiss of disbelief. He met the stunned warrior's gaze steadily. "There is more of the legend of the Key and the Warrior that is true. My ki will augment hers, just like she does to me. Both of us will rise to levels beyond any seen in the last thousand years."

"That means...two..."

"Yes," he said. "If her power is allowed to grow, she has the potential to become Super Saiya-jin, even though she is of alien blood."

Radditz shook his head, trying to process all this information. "But if she attains Super Saiya-jin, many warriors will not tolerate that..."

Vegeta immediately began nodding, relief washing over him that Radditz was thinking along similar patterns as he. "Yes, yes. Her life would be in danger the moment she stepped foot onto the planet. Even though she's the Key, Saiya-jin arrogance and superiority are too much a part of our society. Not too many would countenance a foreign woman holding so much power. They would kill her first chance they get."

"But she would be too powerful...even for them..."

"Not at first, and probably not for many months. She surged today to a level of power almost half of mine, but she could not sustain it. Her body could not handle the strain. She collapsed. If she does that every time she uses her ki, then she won't survive the first challenger. She will need a vast amount of training in order to attain Super Saiya-jin, for what use would all that power be if she could not control it."

"But does that still constitute the need to put her in chains and under the influence of a diffuser?" Radditz questioned silently.

"Yes. It is for her own protection. She will be shielded from those who would harm her or me from inside the walls of the palace and those without. Can you imagine what Frieza would do should be learn of her true identity? Every assassin worth his salt would be crawling all over Vegetasei, and I wouldn't be anywhere near her to protect her. They would keep us separated."

Radditz paused long and hard. He had come to think of Bulma as a daughter of sorts. Had even sworn to protect her at court. As Vegeta's slave, he now would be unable to do so. Another warrior never acknowledged or touched the property of another without the permission of her master. He knew the Prince would guard her jealously. But he wasn't sure if that would be any better for Bulma. He had a pretty good idea what had been going on the room before he and Nappa had heard the crash of his body into the glass, felt the incredible energy of a ki beam, even through their sleep in the regen tanks. He now needed to know how the Prince regarded the event.

"But why the sudden spurt? Energy like that only comes through moments of heightened distress," he tried to make sound as nonchalant as possible, but knew he'd failed when Vegeta pinned him in his black gaze.

Just as suddenly as the rage was there, it was gone. Vegeta, for the first time since Radditz had known him, looked uncomfortable, almost guilty even.

After a long pause, the Prince murmured, "I came to this bed intending to claim her. Her body said 'yes', but her mind screamed 'no.' Her fear and pain became too much, and her ki blasted its way free...into me."

Vegeta then seemed to trail off, as if caught in some other memory. _Her eyes...dammit, why won't they leave me the fuck alone?_ But the thoughts of what transpired between him and the woman crept up on him. It replayed in his mind over and over. Her moaning and writhing underneath him, him moving inside her, feeling as if he had conquered the world. Saw the flash of realization as she awakened from a pleasant dream to cold, stark reality, the horror of the truth flashing across her beautiful face. His rage when she rejected him, the dark, cold stab of jealousy, driving his need to fully control her, him losing that control, hurting her. Then her rage and pain, building so fast, sending him flying through the air. And her eyes, damning him with their sorrow...

Radditz knew by the change in Vegeta that his Prince had learned something of regret this night. He knew that no words would lessen Vegeta's guilt and pain, only he could do something about it. So, he decided to go along with whatever his lord wanted, at least for now.

"Oujisama?" he said. The Prince did not respond. Radditz repeated himself, louder. "Ouji-sama?"

Vegeta snapped by to reality, looking dazed for only a moment. "What?"

Radditz bowed his head. "I will help you in whatever you deem necessary."

"Thank you."

At that time, Nappa came back into the room, holding two bracelets, one in each hand, out and away from his body, as if they were contaminated.

"It took you long enough," Vegeta snapped. He snatched the bracelets from Nappa, weighing them in his hands, deciding they were not too heavy for Bulma's delicate wrists. The golden bracelets were fashioned in the shape of serpents, with the body circling around, the mouth and tail twining together to form a setting for the identifier stone. The stone showed which type of work a slave did. Green stones were for field slaves, brown stones for those who worked in the mine, white stones for household servants. In Bulma's case, she was to be a concubine, a pleasure slave, thus the stones in her bracelets were the deepest, darkest blood red. The serpent design of the jewelry marked her as Vegeta's.

"And you fixed one of these with a diffuser?" he asked Nappa.

The balding man nodded. "Yes, Ouji-sama. Set to 5,000."

Vegeta smirked, now back into his bad-ass Saiya-jin mode. Asking for Radditz' opinion was one thing; he actually was somewhat intelligent. Nappa was an imbecile, good in a fight, but bad for strategy. The Prince would be damned if he showed anymore weakness in front of Nappa. It would only confuse the poor man.

Walking over to the bed, he attached a bracelet to each of Bulma's slender wrists. He stroked the length of her arm for a moment, loving its velvety smoothness, before laying both arms gently back down on either side of her body.

"Link!" he said. Bulma's wrists immediately snapped together. "Release!"

Her hands fell back apart. Vegeta made a grunt of satisfaction. The binding, voice-activated magnets in the bracelets seemed to function properly. All slave bracelets were outfitted in this manner. Most bracelets could be activated by any Saiya-jin voice. Slave uprisings didn't happen often, but every now and then, usually in the more remote areas of the planet, some slaves rebelled. The bracelets acted as handcuffs, reducing a slave's ability to break free. He purposefully programmed Bulma's so only he would have that power over her; he wanted no one else in charge of her.

Turning back to the warriors, he explained what he wanted. "Her identity is not to be revealed. She is merely my pleasure slave, taken as prize after we left Chikyuu. Kakarott is dead; I destroyed him. Then, we decimated the planet. No mention is to be made of this incident until I say so. If either one of you so much as breathes a word of this to anyone, even amongst yourselves, I will kill you both. Do we have an understanding?"

Both men nodded agreement. Radditz didn't even hesitate, acceptance gleaming in his eyes. He would not give Vegeta any problems, for now. However, Radditz did promise to himself that he would look in on the girl from time to time. If he felt she was being mistreated or abused, he would speak to Vegeta.

"Good," the Prince said. "Now leave."

Both soldiers bowed in respect and left. Vegeta stood where he was, looking closely Bulma's sleeping form. Bending over her, he reached out one hand, softly stroking her blue tresses, running a few through his fingers. _Gods, do I but want her_, he thought. For a fraction of an instant, he thought of throwing everything away. Saying to hell with his duties as Prince, as a Saiya-jin, and wrapping himself in this woman, this goddess, to just be a man, worshipping at her feet.

Then his stomach turned. He was doing it again, allowing this woman's power to overload his senses. He buried his hand in her hair, tightening his grip slightly.

"You will bend to my will," he hissed.

"Not a chance in hell, you bastard..." she breathed, finally just waking from her trauma-induced slumber.

A/N: Haha! I left a cliffhanger! How evil am I?


	6. Chapter 4B

Chapter 4B - An Impasse

Last time…

_"You will bend to my will," he hissed._

_"Not a chance in hell, you bastard..." she breathed, finally waking from her trauma-induced slumber._

Vegeta released her immediately, shame washing over his indiscreet manhandling. _But she might as well get used it._ It was how she would be treated, at least in public, if he was to protect her. He had no desire to hurt her, but he would have to use a heavy hand. She was wild and free, something he wasn't used to in a woman, something he found captivating. However, the Court wouldn't admire it. In fact, they'd revile her, finding such open defiance intolerable in a bed slave.

The only way he could preserve his ruse, and her life, was to put fear into her. He grasped her shoulders, hauling her up against the length of her. She 'eeped' in a squeaky voice. "Watch what you say, woman, or I'll have you Muted."

She shuddered at their close proximity, but refused to allow herself to be cowed. "What is that? Some barbaric punishment where you remove my tongue?"

Vegeta then became distracted by her mouth, the sensual way it formed words, and of course, the mention of her tongue sent a flurry of erotic thoughts into his head. He threw her back to the bed for fear of losing control.

"No, it doesn't hurt," he answered. "It's a muscle relaxant, designed to numb the throat and larynx muscles, disabling one's speech."

Bulma cringed at the thought. Vegeta saw her fear and was pleased. He never had any attention of Muting her, but it was a good threat. However, his pleasure dissipated when he saw the anger snapping in her eyes. _Such fire..._

She raised her hands, showing him the bracelets. "What are these? Presents for the Key, in honor of her dignified position?"

His jaw tightened. He felt confusion and nausea course through him about her unavoidable enslavement. _For fuck's sake, what was she doing to him?_ He had never doubted anything in his life. He didn't like the feeling, and his natural arrogance kicked in. "Dignified position? Woman, the only positions you will assume will be either on your knees or on your back!"

He smirked, feeling once again the mighty Prince of the Saiya-jins. His eyes gleamed with lust as they drank in Bulma's rage. She grew disgusted with him, felt herself being driven over the edge. She lunged at him, wanting to rip his eyes out and shred his face.

Vegeta leapt back out of her way, shouting "Link!"

Bulma's attack lost momentum as her wrists slammed together, and she stumbled, falling right into Vegeta's embrace. He turned her so that her back was plastered against his so he wouldn't get distracted by her eyes.

"Tsk, tsk, little one," he said. "It's not nice to tease the animals." Unable to resist teasing her a little, he dropped a kiss on her shoulder, slowly working his way up the column of her neck. His tongue flicked out, caressing the shell of her ear, causing heated tingles to shoot through Bulma's entire body. He nipped the side of her cheek.

"You're right!" Bulma shouted. "You are an animal!"

She slammed her elbow into his stomach, but only felt a sharp jab of pain for her efforts. Vegeta's stomach was rock-hard, and he laughed at her puny struggles. "Whatever this lifetime brings us, it won't be boredom!"

Bulma stilled suddenly like a frightened rabbit. "Lifetime?" she whispered, not wanting to acknowledge his words.

Vegeta stopped laughing, growing more somber. His only reaction was to nod.

Angry tears burst into Bulma's eyes. "A lifetime spent of you raping me? I'd rather die, even by my own hand!"

The Prince became enraged out her outburst. He spun her around, shaking her by the shoulders as he argued, "Woman, you will not die! If you take your own life, rest assured that I will go back to that backwater hellhole you call home and decimate it, including every living thing."

Bulma's resistance gave out at his threat. She collapsed against his chest, too tired and too scared to argue anymore. His arms came up to encircle her. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Little one, I do not know what this is between us. It id unfamiliar to me, but it doesn't matter. It can be violent and overwhelming at times, and I find it…you…completely irresistible. But do know this: I will never force your hand against me again. From this moment forward, you will experience only pleasure, never pain, at my hands."

Bulma raised her head to look at him, disbelief evident in her eyes. "And why should I believe you? You forced yourself upon me…you killed my friend! Why the fuck should I trust you?"

"Because I am the most powerful being in the galaxy," he responded softly. "And I value your opinion. Usually I wouldn't care. With any other woman, I'd take her over and over again until I'd tired of her. Then I'd kill her or cast her aside, depending on how well she pleased me. You...I could never do that to you."

"Oh. Okay. Since you won't kill me, let's just jump in the sack now and get busy," she snarled. Her sudden anger gave her the means to jerk away from him. She attempted to turn away, but he caught her arm.

"That's not what I meant," he ground out.

"Then what did you mean?"

Vegeta swallowed. He hadn't expected the conversation to be this frank. He was admitting things to her he never would have to others. Her ability to make him forget all the walls, all the masks he'd constructed around his true self all these years, was frightening. Perhaps what was more frightening was, because of those barriers, he wasn't sure who his true self was.

"Look, woman, I know-"

"Bulma," she interrupted softly. "My name is Bulma."

He growled low in annoyance. "Fine, wom-Bulma. Fine. I just meant that you were not going to suffer at my hands."

Bulma's face contorted with incredulity. _He just doesn't get it. _She was about to make another smartass remark, but then she looked into his eyes. What she saw in those midnight orbs made her pause. Gone was the selfishness, the arrogance, the cruelty. In its place was pleading, sincerity, and something else she couldn't quite name. Sort of a cross between regret and hope. It was a powerful combination.

"Do you really mean that?, she asked, already knowing the answer but needing to him say it.

"Yes."

She wanted to believe him, but she wasn't sure she could. _He killed Yamcha_, but Bulma couldn't lie to herself. She wanted Vegeta. It was a dark and cruel passion that he drew from her, but there it was. The things he made her feel were terrifying in their depth.

Bulma also knew she was not in a position to argue; he could crush her skull with a wayward hand. The name of this game was survival. She was a survivor. "Okay. I believe you," she replied. Holding up her hands, she looked pointedly at the conjoined bracelets. "Why not take these off?"

"Release!"

The bracelets detached, but Vegeta made no move to actually remove them from her wrists. Impatiently, she held up her hands. "Hello? They're not going to jump off by themselves."

Vegeta had to fight to suppress a grin. This woman, Bulma, certainly had spirit. It pleased him very much. The years spent with her would be interesting, to say the least. But then he sobered, realizing she fully expected him to release her from her bonds. Slowly, he pulled her back into his arms. She came without protest, though she remained stiff and aloof.

Leaning his head against hers, as if in sympathy, he murmured, "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" she shot back.

Immediately Bulma struggled again, but he was prepared for that. He tightened his embrace, folding his arms and shoulders protectively around her, trying to keep her from escaping. "Hush, Bulma. If you arrive on Vegetasei free, someone else will take you. They'll take you because they are stronger, and you are weaker. That is the law. Might makes right. I won't release you because I can't stand the thought of someone else owning you."

She'd quieted down, knowing she wasn't going to break free of his iron embrace. "So, I'm just property now?"

"Yes."

"Your property?"

"In the eyes of Saiya-jin law, yes. You are my property, my slave, my chattel. I own you and everything about you. You exist for me."

Her face was pressed against his shoulder, and he could feel moisture from her eyes beginning to drip on his flesh. Her crying didn't keep her from asking questions, though. "So what are you going to do with me?"

Vegeta sighed. "That depends on you. If you're good and obey orders, you'll be spoiled rotten. If you rebel and disobey me, I will have to try other means of taming you."

_If her back grows any stiffer, it will break_, he thought, knowing his words wounded her pride. But she had to face the truth, especially if she wanted to live. He continued describing her new life. "You'll become part of my household, attending to my needs."

He felt her begin to tremble with rage. "Even if I don't want to. Will what happened last night happen every night? Because I'll fight you so hard...Gods, just leave me alone! I want no part of you!"

When she began to struggle again, Vegeta's patience snapped, and the demon that was his rage roared inside him. He flipped her so that her back was melded to his and turned both of them towards an unbroken mirror in one fluid motion.

He clamped his arm around her waist, hauling her up tighter against him. "You are mine, woman! And I'm going to prove it to you!"

Bulma was trembling, knowing she'd gone too far, but too prideful to beg his forgiveness. She kept her mouth shut, but glared at his reflection, defiance and anger blazing in her eyes, turning them into sapphires.

Vegeta noticed her anger, but that only heightened his desire to teach her her place more. "You want no part of me, hmm?" He asked, his breath tickling her ear. "Then why are you flushed with excitement, not white with fear?"

His free hand stroked her face lightly while his tail snaked its way across her torso, flicking the undersides of each breast before brushing against her nipples. She watched her reflection in horror as they immediately puckered into hard, little nubs, and Vegeta grabbed one, rolling it gently. Its pearly pinkness between his fingers hardened even more, causing a heavy, warm heat to rise from her center.

She met his gaze in the mirror. He was smirking, his eyes clouded over in obsession. Her own reflection revealed her conflict between anger and pleasure. _Gods, I didn't know his tail could be used like this._ Bulma had to bite her tongue to keep from moaning. Vegeta saw her struggle between rebellion and submission, and he continued his demonstration.

"I guess you could argue that this room is cold, and your breasts would react that way if cloth swept against them," he murmured. "There is truly only one place to tell how you're feeling this instant, with me. And only me."

His hands moved from her breasts to trail above her abdomen, and then lower. His tail followed suit, brushing lightly at the patch of lavender curls nestled at the juncture of her thighs. Then the furry appendage began making small circles on the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

His tail was soon replaced by his fingers, driving her into a frenzy of pent up emotion. When one finger dipped into her folds, she could no longer hold back a moan, and her hips followed his pace. He stroked her a bit, gently at first, but building a steady rhythm.

When he inserted another finger into her, she lost control. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and her body tightened in excitement against his. Pleasure was pounding through her veins, so much she didn't think she could contain it. Through her haze of passion, she opened her eyes slightly, looking at Vegeta in the mirror. He returned her gaze as he continued his skilled manipulation of her flesh. In his eyes, she saw triumph, cold and cruel, blazing like torchlight, but she also thought she caught a glimpse of something else. A gentling, a tenderness, as if he actually wanted her to feel pleasure.

That thought was lost as the final tidal wave of her climax washed through her, pumping her dry of all her energy. She cried out, and her body hummed with it for several long moments. Finally, as the tremors subsided, she collapsed weakly against Vegeta, allowing him to support her full weight.

Vegeta's hand when to his mouth, where he slowly licked away the proof of her ecstasy. "Mmm," he purred, before turning her head towards his and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

When they broke apart, he whispered, "Never doubt me again."

Bulma's pride wouldn't allow her to capitulate, no matter how much pleasure she had received. "You promised..." she muttered in accusation.

Vegeta chuckled low and cocky. "I promised you I would not force you. I did not promise not to touch you. Besides, I do recall your hands locking around my wrist at one point, urging me faster."

Her face instantly blushed red, and she rolled her head away from him. She couldn't think straight, and it was his fault, of course. She should be trying to escape, to get away from him. But here she was, allowing him to touch her, allowing him to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.

Suddenly, everything became too much for her. She felt fatigued and strained and exhausted. Her pride be damned, she wanted to go home.

"Please," she begged. "Let me go."

Vegeta heard her soft plea and tensed with annoyance. _Have I not made it clear that she isn't going anywhere without me_, he asked himself. But then he noticed that she really wasn't asking him. She was just staring into nothingness, her body limp and pliant against him. He knew, however, that while she was docile and demure now, later she would be ferocious. He grinned, anticipating their next round already.

Gently turning Bulma in his arms, he scooped her up and cradled her fragile body to his chest. He placed another kiss atop her head as he carried her from the courtesan's den to his own room. She didn't resist at all as he laid her beneath the covers and slid in next to her.

Pulling her back into his embrace, he molded the contours of her softness into his hardness. He knew that she was too tired for any more stimulation, and since they would land on Vegetasei in a few more hours, he let her be, content just to hold her. Then he remembered that he had not answered her earlier plea.

Before allowing himself to drift off into oblivion, he murmured, "Never."

**A/N**: Vegeta is hungry. Feed him reviews, please!


	7. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. The response is almost overwhelming! I'm taking your feedback and suggestions to heart as I re-write certain parts of the story, and I must say some of you are psychic! Not telling you what comes next though!**

**Enough from me! Get to reading and enjoy!**

**Chapter V - Whores and Amnesia**

"He who angers you, conquers you."  
~ Elizabeth Kenny

"No."

"Woman, we've been through this..."

"I know. My answer hasn't changed."

"Grrr."

"Growling will get you nowhere."

"Dammit, woman!" Vegeta snarled. "You WILL wear it!"

Bulma glanced at him, seeing his intense frustration with her clearly written on his face, but paid no mind to it. She scowled right back at him, "There is no way in the nine hells that I'm wearing that...dress."

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose, counting to one hundred, trying very hard not to blast the damned stubborn female away. He'd left earlier that morning, albeit reluctantly, to train and give her some privacy. The Prince was being something he never was: considerate of someone else's feelings.

Yet here she was, throwing it back in his face, obviously still extremely pissed about the previous night. Her anger in turn pissed him off. He'd given her pleasure last night, taking none for himself so that she could be well rested for their arrival on Vegetasei.

Now, because of her blasted temper, they were already ten minutes late in departing. He had kept his father and the entire Court waiting, all because of her. It wasn't that he gave a damn about what any of them thought, but it would mean more questions to answer.

That meant he'd have to be diplomatic in order to salvage his honor. Then that meant he'd be late in beginning his training, and thus, ultimately, late in returning to her that evening.

All because she refused to get dressed.

"Woman-"

"The name's Bulma."

"Whatever," he huffed. He could feel tense pressure building in the base of his skull, right where it met his neck. If this argument continued, he knew it'd only be a matter of minutes before the throbbing pain would travel up to press incessantly against his temples, not to abate for at least several hours.

Vegeta looked at Bulma. She sat primly perched on his bed, hair still a bit damp from her earlier shower. A towel was wrapped tightly around her, covering most of the important parts. However, it still left her very long, very supple legs open to his hungry eyes. Not to mention her delicate shoulders and arms, or her graceful, porcelain neck. How he longed to kiss it and begin a trail up to her luscious mouth, to plunder the treasure found there.

He buried thoughts of seducing Bulma to the back of his mind, though to his frustration they hovered on the surface of his subconscious. _Now is not the time_, he repeated to himself several times. He also reminded himself that it was all her fault; her fault for being so damned beautiful, for being a distraction, and for their being late.

_Hmm...she deserves to be punished_, he thought and then grinned evilly.

"Woman," he whispered low and soft. "Come here."

"Humph," she replied. "No way, monkey boy."

"AHH!" he screamed, reaching the end of his limits. He was even more angered by his loss of control. The little female obviously still didn't understand her position, even after his demonstration last night. He knew another was in order. He frowned at the thought that it would make them even later. _But does it really matter..._Logic escaped his mind as it latched onto another excuse to touch the woman, to gently pry into her stubborn psyche and bend her yet again to his will.

Slowly, he began stalking across the room to the bed.

Bulma watched myriad emotions run across Vegeta's face. She was delighted that she could cause the mighty Prince of Vegetasei to lose so much of his precious control. Her smile faded, however, as she saw Vegeta begin to gradually move towards her, was even more alarmed by the predatory gleam she saw reflected in his obsidian eyes. _Dammit, not again..._She didn't think she could hold out against him so soon after his latest tender assault…

_Last night after his brutal attack that proved she lusted after him, he had let her sleep undisturbed. This morning, however, he had begun his seduction smoothly and with only her pleasure in his mind._

_She hadn't been dreaming again, but he awoke her with delicate kisses across her neck and gently bit her earlobes, soothing the small hurt with his tongue._

_"Awake, my sleeping beauty…awake," he had murmured. He had ensured that she was fully conscious so as not to repeat history and to show her how he meant to cherish her. _

_She had woken up to his kisses and had begun to return them back, momentarily forgetting that he was the enemy. She was enjoying his seduction, but her fuzzy mind had remembered that she was supposed to fight...and she'd pushed him away._

_Much to her surprise, he had moved away immediately, though with a groan and a scowl up his face. She had thought he would fight her, given his obvious control over her._

_However, he had simply breathed a few large breaths and calmed himself down. He remembered he had promised not to harm her again. _

_"Woman," he said. "I am very aware of vowing to never cause you harm, but you also should remember that I will take every opportunity to make you feel what I feel. Do not think that every time I stop that you are winning this strange game of ours. I might not always stop, especially when you respond to me…I will have you again…I know you want me…_

Clearing her head, she leapt from the bed, raising her arms into a defensive position, not noticing that the towel had loosened somewhat. "No!" she yelled. "Not another step..."

Bulma cursed inwardly at herself as she heard her voice begin to crack and was even more frustrated because she didn't know if it was panic or need that caused her display of weakness. She resolved to resist as long as possible, though from her fast capitulation the night before, she knew it wouldn't take long for him to storm her defenses.

But then, Vegeta seemed to hesitate in his hunt, looking puzzled and unsure. _Maybe I'm off the hook...for a little while. _She couldn't stop a small wave of disappointment from washing through her.

Vegeta, meanwhile, had been fully prepared to demonstrate his sweet power over her, but then he'd seen the fear, the panic, in her eyes, and mixed with it was something else. Longing, perhaps. A certain wistfulness. A knowledge that her resistance wouldn't last long, but that fact didn't really bother her. The Prince was startled with the realization that she was admitting an attraction to him to herself. She'd never seemed to do that before, and Vegeta felt pleased that she was slowly, it seemed, letting a little light through her walls on her own. It would make her transition into her new life easier for both of them.

Instinctively, he knew that if he pursued his current plan of action, he would damage the little bit of progress he'd made. He stopped halfway across the room, strengthening his resolve to leave her alone. _At least for now..._

He was still irritated, however, that she was refusing to wear the concubine's uniform he'd brought to her. It was what she'd be wearing from now on, so she might as well get used to it right away. He also wasn't about to let her go around wearing those rags she'd been wearing when he first brought her onto the ship.

He was determined to win this argument, but also didn't want to completely crush her. The woman's spirit was admirable, almost Saiya-jin even. Vegeta had learned many ways to break a strong spirit, mostly from his early childhood spent with Frieza. On the flip side of that training had also been an education in which spirits didn't need to be broken in order to gain cooperation. These individuals only needed a bit of aggressive persuasion at the right moments.

Sighing, Vegeta said, "Relax, woman...Bulma," he corrected, seeing a flash of anger once again in her eyes. He smirked, amused that he could get a rise out of her so quickly.

"I'm going to give you two choices."

Surprise clearly shone on her face. This was definitely an unexpected turn of events. Bulma would never have figured him to be the compromising type. _I bet there's a catch..._

But she was intrigued, and so relaxed her defensive stance. "Okay. What are they?" she asked warily.

Vegeta grinned, a true smile, pleased that she was listening. "You may either way this gown," he said, holding up a wad of delicate material. "Or you may go as you are now. Either way, you _will_ be leaving this ship."

"You bastard!" she screeched. "What the fuck kind of choices are those?"

The Saiya-jin no Ouji smirked again. _Such fire._ He truly enjoyed riling her temper. She was both beautiful and intelligent, with a sharp wit to match his own. Now that he'd made the decision to yield to whatever it was she stirred in him, he found himself looking forward to their verbal battles. They both had strong wills, promising for many stimulating debates. _At least it will distract me from wanting to throw her to the ground and claim her again and again._ He was momentarily distracted yet again, as her towel had managed to loosen even more from her barely-controlled rage.

However, time was short, and thus he squelched his lust. "Woman, I did not say they were choices you would like. However, they are yours from which to choose. Do know this, however, going out as you are now will show you to be nothing more than a palace whore, open to blatant stares and nasty comments from any who choose to do so. I will not lift a finger to protect you from their censure. You will be seen as a slut and treated as such."

"And like that, that scrap of cloth you're holding offers any protection either?"

A look of bewilderment crossed Vegeta's face, but then he remembered she knew nothing of Saiya-jin customs. "This scrap of cloth, as you put it, marks you as mine-"

"Oh, great! Private whore is much a better position than palace slut! Fuck you and your choices-"

Just as she had cut him off, he interrupted her tirade. Not with words, but with his mouth. Before she even knew what was happening, she was being pressed into Vegeta's body, his lips capturing hers and devouring her. His arms tightened around her waist in a vise-like grip, and his tail wound its way around one of her thighs. She didn't even have time to resist and so just yielded to his demanding body.

Vegeta broke off the kiss as abruptly as he'd started it, pleased by her heaving breathing and flushed face. "By wearing this uniform, you are not being labeled my 'private whore.' It is just the opposite, in fact. This dress marks you as my concubine, with all the rights and privileges due such a position of honor. You will be treated with respect, not derision and contempt."

Confusion clouded Bulma's eyes. "What the hell is the difference between a whore and a concubine?"

"A lot, actually. A whore can be used by just about anyone at anytime and has no protector. She is the lowliest of slaves, usually not even worth clothing."

He felt Bulma shudder at his blunt description, but it was better she knew where things stood. Though her choices were limited, she **did **have a choice. She deserved to know the full impact of her decision.

"A concubine," he continued, "on the other hand, is the highest rank a pleasure slave can achieve. She commands respect, for her master highly favors her. As long as she obeys him, she can come and go as she pleases. No one can accost her or treat her with disrespect."

Bulma went limp in Vegeta's now loosened embrace. Her choices, as they were, came as a low blow to one as prideful as herself. She could feel panic and despair rise within her, but she forced them down again. No weakness would be displayed by her. She'd demonstrated too much as it were right now.

She pulled away from Vegeta, slightly surprised he let her go so easily. Stepping back, she looked into his eyes. "Very well," she said icily. "I will become your concubine versus a palace whore, but know this. I will never, **never** yield to you willingly again."

Anger sparked in Vegeta's eyes. "I'd rethink that, if I were you, woman," he ground out. "Rarely does a palace whore rise to concubine, but a concubine can fall to palace whore in the blink of an eye."

He saw her blue eyes widen, but then crinkle with mischief. "Well, I'm not quite sure what being "Key" means, but I'm willing to bet that it's a position of even more prestige than a mere concubine."

She suddenly felt herself slammed into the wall, Vegeta pressing into her violently. However, no lust sparked in his eyes, just rage. "Never, never threaten me, woman!" he snarled. "You will keep that lovely mouth of yours shut about what happened on Chikyuu!"

Bulma gulped nervously. She'd never seen Vegeta provoked to such anger. She about to question him, but then a beep came from a radio on Vegeta's belt.

"Sire," Radditz' voice broke through the tension between them. "Your father, the King, demands your presence on the bridge. He wishes to know what is delaying our departure from the ship."

_Dammit! That man has to have the worst fucking timing in the whole galaxy_, Vegeta raged inwardly. However, his father was King, and it wouldn't do to delay him any longer. Releasing Bulma, he pressed a button on the com unit and replied, "Fine. I will be there shortly."

Turning back to Bulma, he glared at her again. "No word to anyone, remember."

She was still too frightened and confused to do anything but nod.

"Good," Vegeta said. He leaned into to graze her lips in a soft kiss. "It is still your choice what to wear, but do realize that if you go as you are, anyone may also do this."

Saying that, he reached for the front of Bulma's towel and pulled. It promptly fell in a wet mass at her feet.

"Bastard," she hissed, frantically reaching down to grab it.

The Prince admired the view for a brief moment before turning towards the door. Before exiting the room, he glanced back at Bulma, once again towel-wrapped and fuming. He answered her insult with one of his own.

"Whore."

He smirked with self-satisfaction as he heard her sputter with indignation. _Score yet another one for me..._

Vegeta's satisfaction was short-lived, however, when half-way to the bridge he heard her yell back.

"Monkey boy!"

The door slammed shut, cutting off her hysterical laughter at his expense. He was very tempted to go back to the room, but then he heard the King's voice shouting over the ship's intercom system, demanding his presence.

Muttering to himself, pride wounded, he stalked to the bridge.

Radditz and Nappa were already standing at attention by the time the irate Prince reached the bridge. The first thing he saw was a huge image of his equally-irate father on the holo-vid screen, glaring daggers at his heir.

"What took you so long, boy?" the Saiya-jin no Ou demanded.

Vegeta's face twisted into a slight snarl. "I owe you no explanations, old man. My time is mine to do with as I please."

"Not when Frieza is here waiting for you!" came the enraged reply.

The King did have the satisfaction of seeing his son's usually implacable face fall in utter shock at his announcement. To rub salt in the would, he added maliciously, "Zarbon is here as well."

"Fuck!" the Prince yelled. "What the hell are they doing here?"

The King sobered, knowing it unwise to discuss the powerful lizard tyrant on an open communications link, even if it was a frequency reserved only for royalty. "That can be discussed later. Just get your weakling tail down here now!"

Rather than engage in more words with his son, the King cut off the transmission, leaving Vegeta startled and anxious at the presence of the two people he hated most in the galaxy. The Prince began pacing, momentarily unsure how he should react this unexpected news.

A shudder ran through him. _Frieza._ He hadn't seen the bastard lizard in almost ten years. Memories of the humiliation and torture and pain he'd suffered at the tyrant's hands came flooding back. Vegeta released a howl of rage at what he saw as an invasion of his home. He grabbed the console to steady himself, nearly crushing the delicate metal in his uncontrolled grasp.

He felt strong hands encircle his wrists, looked up and saw Radditz' worried face. Vegeta snarled, jerking away from the other warrior, but remembering himself at the same time. He straightened, banishing the memories to his subconscious.

"Thank you," he whispered, acknowledging Radditz' silent sympathy. Only he and Nappa knew the true extent of Vegeta's suffering at Frieza and Zarbon's hands, as they themselves had witnessed it. They had also even bore the brunt of it at certain points.

Vegeta inhaled a deep, soothing breath, preparing himself for once again meeting his enemies and having to treat them with at least a hint of civility. The knowledge that he would very soon pound both of the fuckers to dust gave him added strength. He also had just thought of a way to distract himself and get revenge on Bulma.

Stalking to the intercom, he bellowed, "Woman! Get your fat ass down here! NOW!"

After Vegeta had left, Bulma remained against the door for several moments, laughing her head off at his embarrassment. Finally, finally, she'd gotten to him. Her humor, however, was short-lived when she remembered her new station in life.

Though there might have been a huge difference in the Saiya-jin definition of whore and concubine, to her mind, they were one and the same. She was stuck with taking the risk of any random, disgusting Saiya-jin claiming her, or being stuck with the Prince for the rest of her days. _At least until he tires of me..._

She shook her head, as if trying to banish the thought. Bulma would be back on Chikyuu long before Vegeta could ever think of tiring her. Plus, there was the promise he'd made never to force her hand against him again, at least when it came to bedroom activities, and since she never planned to give into him again, she wasn't worried. Vegeta wouldn't harm her physically. If he were going to, he'd have done it already.

Remembering the feral look on his face when she'd mentioned being the Key made her rethink that conclusion. Vegeta had been pretty pissed. _Why is it so bad if everyone knows I'm the Key?_ However, beneath Vegeta's anger she'd seen worry and anxiety. Something about her status was potentially threatening, and until she found out what it was, she'd have to trust Vegeta.

Smiling ironically over this strange turn, she walked to beside the bed, picking up the "dress" Vegeta had dropped. Shaking out the wrinkles, she drew it across the bed, examining its cut before putting it on. There really wasn't any decision to be made. She sure as hell wasn't going into the Saiya-jin Court wearing nothing but a towel. _Though this thing doesn't look like it covers much more..._

The dress was made of a thin, gauzy material, black and almost see-through. It resembled a night-shift, but was obviously made for day wear. Although the material was thin, Bulma could tell by its texture that it was also durable.

_Oh, well. If you can't beat them, join 'em_, she sighed in resignation, pulling the dress over her head and smoothing it along the lines of her body. She was slightly shocked to discover it had no side-seams. Two panels of material covered her front and back, connected on either side by a small, delicate chain that draped across her both her hips. Her sides were completely exposed.

She stalked to the courtesan's den, determined to see fully how much of was visible. _Maybe the towel is a better option_, she though dryly as she approached the mirrored room. Upon entering it, she couldn't help but be overcome by a wave of nausea from the Prince's complete assault upon her body the night she'd had too much dragonsblood. She still couldn't remember how she'd gotten him off of her, but knew it had to have been violent, given the still-busted mirrors winking at her.

Bulma was grasped from her Swiss-cheese like memories as her reflection in the unbroken mirrors caught her attention. The dress definitely did expose more than a simple towel. The neckline of the dress dipped down to her navel, displaying ample cleavage. The material was also way more transparent than she'd originally thought. However, since there weren't any seams, the material bunched loosely over each breast, rendering her nipples invisible.

What alarmed her most, however, was how much leg she was showing. Her legs seemed to stretch forever, and since her sides were fully exposed from toe to underarm, her legs might as well have journeyed for eternity. Worse, she discovered, was that when she walked, no matter how fast, the front panel gathered between her legs, exposing even more flesh.

_That rat bastard, monkey boy son-of-a-bitch..._she inwardly cursed. She was fuming. How could this outfit be any better than a damned towel?

She was about to track down the Prince and blast him when she heard static on the intercom.

"Woman! Get your fat ass down here NOW!"

Vegeta chuckled to himself silently. In the course of his years, he'd learned one thing for sure. All females, no matter what species, were vain. They hated any reference to them gaining weight. Bulma certainly was no exception. A woman was not as beautiful as she if she didn't suffer from vanity, at least to a small degree. The blue-haired vixen was most assuredly going to be pissed. Plus, he'd called her "woman," once again denying her the dignity of her real name.

He heard a screech of outrage and another door slam from the back of the ship and knew his prank had worked. Bulma was seriously fuming.

However, Vegeta's humor died the moment she stepped onto the bridge. He hadn't expected the vision she would transform into wearing the concubine's "uniform," which left little to the imagination. He'd seen other women wear the dress before, but he'd never realized how provocative it was until he saw it on his woman. With her in his line of sight, all he saw was legs, heaving chest, flashing eyes, a soft cloud of blue hair, and even more leg.

It took him several moments to remove his heart from his throat. "Woman, what the hell are you wearing?"

Bulma had been completely prepared to pound into Vegeta, but the look of raw, undisguised need in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. Never had anyone looked at her with so much emotion, so much passion. Not even Yamcha. She was mesmerized by the sheer intensity of his desire, his need.

She mentally stumbled over his question. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Vegeta's raw desire was quickly turning into raw anger. He stalked towards her until their noses practically touched. "I mean what I said, woman," he whispered, voice laced with rage. "Everything you have is on full display!"

She had expected him to shower her with compliments, not turn into some jealous asshole. "Listen up, dumbass!" she roared. "This is what you're making me wear! If you don't like it, that's your problem!"

Vegeta hissed, but stepped back a little as he realized he was out of control. Trembling slightly from both rage and desire, he said, "I didn't say I didn't like it."

Bulma blinked, twice. This man was truly going to destroy her sanity. "Oh," she whispered.

The Prince continued backing away from her, knowing he couldn't resist the urge to throw her down and take her right then and there if he continued standing next to her. Sighing, he said, "You just took me by surprise, that's all."

"Oh."

"Let me look a little longer, and then I'll decide."

Vegeta began circling her, looking her up and down, admiring the view from every angle. Bulma felt she was a horse on an auction block and said as much.

He laughed at her anger, remarking only, "At least I was wrong about your ass. It's not fat."

Bulma was stunned speechless by his compliment, given in such a sincere manner and in front of his Guardsmen. Radditz and Nappa, too, were silent with shock. Vegeta just ignored them, but did manage to temper his burning desire to say fuck off to everyone and drag Bulma back into his room.

Instead, he snapped at Radditz. "Fetch a long cloak! I don't want Frieza and Zarbon to get any ideas."

He turned back to Bulma as the warrior ran to do his bidding. "Listen, woman, there are some things you need to know before we go down. First, follow behind me, staying close. Second, don't speak to or look at any warrior until you are asked a question or told to do so."

"I thought being your concubine made me respectable," she protested.

"It does, but you're still a woman and a slave. No one can touch you or treat you with disrespect, but you must also remember your place."

He was rewarded by a low growl and a fierce glare. Bulma didn't seem to know many emotions these days except fear or anger. While she much preferred the latter to the former, she also missed joy and love and happiness. It was this realization that dissipated her anger. She had a new emotion to add: sadness.

Vegeta watched the anger drain out of her eyes, but before he could comment on her change, Radditz returned. He grabbed the cloak and threw it around Bulma. It covered her head to toe, but still left too much leg showing when she walked for Vegeta's liking. However, there was nothing else he could do. _Zarbon just better remember to whom she belongs._ He knew the battle that would ensue between the two enemies if the green-haired alien took it to mind to add Bulma to his list of sexual conquests.

Frowning, Vegeta turned and lead the group to the gangplank, which had just began lowering. Suddenly, he turned back to Bulma, saying, "Just one other thing, woman. If I do this, don't resist."

Before she could ask what "this" was, Vegeta pulled her to him, crashing his mouth to hers in a hard, swift kiss. He pushed her back gently when it was over, noticing she could only pant for breath. She looked at him for an instant with nothing but pure lust in her eyes.

Then he broke the mood by snapping, "Link!"

The bracelets around Bulma's wrists immediately followed their orders, and she was once again reminded of her captivity and her enslavement. Vegeta saw the anger snap back into her eyes, and he laughed out loud at her predicament, turning once again to do down the ramp.

Bulma raised her bound hands to strike a blow on the back of the Prince's head, but Radditz grabbed her arm before she could. He merely shook his head in negation of her actions, and then gently nudged her forward.

Her shoulders sagging in momentary defeat, Bulma followed Vegeta down the ramp, Nappa and Radditz bringing up the rear. A harsh, vicious wind assailed her, and the atmosphere seemed to press in on her. She felt like she was slowly being suffocated and squished like a bug beneath a shoe.

She stumbled, grasping Vegeta's shoulder before sinking to the ground. Though annoyed, he turned and caught her before she completely fell.

"Can't...breathe..."she whispered, desperately trying to fill her lungs with oxygen that just wasn't there.

"Dammit!" Vegeta hissed, realizing that Bulma's human body wasn't used to the stronger gravitational pull of Vegetasei. _Shit, shit, shit..._his mind said over and over in his head like a mantra.

Scooping Bulma into his arms as she fell unconscious, he yelled to Nappa and Radditz, "Open the doors! Hurry!"

The two Guards sped at top speed across the landing strip towards the tall castle doors, Vegeta hot on their trail and cursing them as they struggled with the heavy doors. He didn't calm himself until they were in the relative safety of the palace. Radditz immediately set the interior room at a level that Bulma could withstand, and Vegeta sighed in relief as he heard her breathing deepen.

However, she was still unconscious when another pair of doors slammed open. His father, Frieza, and Zarbon stormed into the antechamber.

Thus, whenever questioned later about meeting these powerful men for the first time, she could honestly answer that she did not recall the event.

**A/N: Bulma will remain unconscious if you don't revive her with reviews! **


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI - Three Men and a Bulma**

**You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you.  
~ Eric Hoffer**

Vegeta felt relief course through him as the small woman cradled in his arms began breathing deeper. Her body relaxed into a state of light unconsciousness, recovering from the sudden and violent denial of oxygen. The Prince knew her rapid readjustment to Vegetasei's unfamiliar atmosphere was due in large part to her heightened ki. Even with the diffuser, she was stronger than she'd ever been before. _So fragile and yet, so strong_, he observed to himself, relishing the contradiction that was Bulma.

His attention was ripped from the Key as the doors to the throne room crashed open, and his father stalked into the room. Vegeta growled low as he saw who trailed the King: Frieza and Zarbon, both aliens looking sly and maliciously superior. _Just wait, lizard freaks, you'll get yours…_

"What the hell is going on?" the King boomed, sneering at the woman in Vegeta's arms. "Is this the reason you're late? Because of some whore?"

Vegeta's face twisted into a snarl. "She's not a whore!" he ground out. "She's my concubine, and yes, she is the reason for my delay."

He refused to elaborate, bristling at the thought of having to explain himself to the old man. The King's face transformed into a feral expression - not unlike his son's. Though both would die before ever admitting it, they were more alike than not.

"What?" the King demanded. "You make us wait so you can screw your little toy! Does a weakling slut hold more sway over the Prince of the Saiya-jins than his duty?"

"Fuck off, old man! How dare you question my honor! I'll blast you into the next dimension for that!"

"Why you sniveling bratling! As if a weakling like you could!"

Vegeta's eyes darkened, meeting his father's own black gaze in a glare that sizzled with white-hot rage. He felt himself powering up in response to his father's challenge. To onlookers, it seemed as if both Royals were about to battle to the death.

A sudden high peel of laughter broke through the tension.

"Tsk, tsk," Frieza said, "Family squabbles in front of guests, though I must say it is quite entertaining."

Both Saiya-jins turned violently to the intruder. Vegeta kept his cold glare in place, but the King realized it would not do to offend his old ally. The lizard tyrant couldn't be trusted when he was calm. No one could predict how he'd be if enraged. Vegeta's father let his anger at his heir slip to the back of his mind.

"My apologies, Lord Frieza," he said. "I hope you can forgive my son's tardiness due to such an asinine reason."

The lizard laughed again, approaching both figures slowly. He stopped before Vegeta, reaching with a deceptively fragile hand towards Bulma, brushing her wild hair from her face. He stroked her pale cheek with a scaly finger for a few moments. "Such beauty would distract any man, commoner or prince," he finally said, admiring the delicate structure of her features.

Vegeta growled when Frieza touched what he considered to be his. The white and purple alien removed his hand from Bulma's face. He smiled a sly grin that did not reach his beady eyes. "I did not mean to cause offense, princeling. My apologies in return."

"No one touches what is mine," Vegeta whispered softly, his voice laced with menace.

Frieza's smile slipped from his lips, settling into a firm scowl of displeasure. "I adhere to that premise as well," he hissed. "Once, if I recall correctly, YOU were regarded as mine."

As he issued this challenge, Vegeta felt the lizard's tail graze the back of his leg before the slithery appendage settled at Frieza's feet. The Prince immediate stiffened as a rush of memories overwhelmed him. He knew very well what it meant to be considered Frieza's possession.

He was about to voice his true opinion of the alien, but his father, not wanting the battle of wills to go any further, cut in. "Well, that is true, Lord Frieza," he said in reconciliation. "However, as you know, Vegeta has been fulfilling his duties as Prince ever since he left your service. He might actually make a respectable king one day. I owe this development solely to his tutelage under you."

Frieza smirked, not truly believing the King, but not wanting to challenge the entire Saiya-jin race at this particular moment. _But soon, very soon_, he promised himself inwardly. _Vegeta will pay for rejecting what I offered._ Plastering a smile upon his leathery face once more, he said, "Thank you, Your Majesty. Training your son in the ways of a warrior, and about…life in general, was quite a challenging, but very…stimulating...experience."

The lizard stepped away from the Prince and his captive, affording his lieutenant, Zarbon, a better view of the goods. The green-haired warrior's eyes immediately lit with animalistic lust at the delicious sight of Bulma. The cloak was bunched beneath her prone form, providing no protection for the flesh exposed by her dress. He couldn't remember ever seeing legs so long, skin so creamy, or coloring more exotic. With his own unique complexion, Zarbon knew they'd make a striking couple.

He could also not help but notice the incredible possessiveness with which the Prince clung to the woman. The thought of denying Vegeta his little toy, obviously one he favored highly, made Zarbon's determination to make the little female his soar._ Just wait, little monkey-prince_…

Vegeta saw the lust in Zarbon's eyes, making him swell with jealousy and anger. He knew exactly what was going on in the lieutenant's head. _Just try, you weak fucker, just try taking her from me. _His thoughts were interrupted as Bulma's eyes shot open, her body gasping for more air as she wakened violently to reality.

Bulma's wide blue eyes widened with shock as she was jolted from the dark netherworld of unconsciousness. She blinked a few times, trying to gain her bearing in her new surroundings. Her eyes focused on the first thing she saw: Vegeta. His face was inches from hers, burning with worry. She could see little flecks of gold in those black depths, close to the iris. She didn't know why, but she thought it very interesting. Then Bulma noticed he was holding her, but she wasn't sure why.

"What happened?" she said breathily.

The flecks of gold in his eyes disappeared as they glazed over with once again into a mask of indecipherability. He did, however, tighten his grip on her small form. This protective gesture contrasted with the indifferent, almost bored tone of his voice as he answered. "Your body isn't accustomed to Vegetasei's gravity. You began suffocating and passed out. But you're fine now."

Bulma swallowed nervously, still slightly dizzy. "Okay."

It was then that she noticed the several pairs of eyes fastened on her, none of them too friendly. She immediately focused her attention on the man closest to her and Vegeta. _Oh my gods! _She gasped to herself. _Why he looks almost exactly like Vegeta! _Her eyes switched between the two men several times, taking in the subtle differences in their appearance. The other man looked a bit older, more battle -worn, and sported brown hair and a goatee. However, beyond that, he was a spitting image of the Prince. _He also glares just like Vegeta…_

She wanted to pass out again.

"Quick gawking, girl," the Vegeta lookalike said gruffly. "Have you never seen a King before?"

"No," she answered.

The King quirked an eyebrow and smirked. It made the resemblance between him and his son all the more apparent. "Well, what is your first impression?"

As the only child and daughter of one of the richest and most influential men on Chikyuu, Bulma had been more than a little spoiled as a child and had hardly ever been reprimanded for her blunt, often razor-sharp, tongue. She was used to speaking her mind and saw no reason to curb her habit. The way the King arrogantly puffed up in arrogance also rankled Bulma's nerves.

"Well, like I said, I've never met a king before," she began, "but I always thought that they'd be a bit taller."

Vegeta started at Bulma's remark, struggling to hold in his laughter. No one ever talked the King in such a forward manner, only the Prince. He sobered as he saw his father's pompous smirk melted into an angry glare. The King looked as if he wanted to blast Bulma, regardless of the fact that she rested in his heir's arms. _Only when I'm lying cold and stiff on the floor_, Vegeta thought, lowering himself into a defensive position, ready to take on his father despite his burdened arms.

Before the Prince and the King go at each other again, Frieza interrupted."Beauty and spirits…My Prince, you certainly have a prize in your arms. She only needs a little training to reign in her wild tongue."

Both Saiya-jins and Bulma turned their attention back to the alien. Bulma immediately sensed an overwhelming evil radiating from the purple and white lizard-like creature. He was shorter even than the King and Vegeta, and even though she couldn't read ki very well, she knew this person wasn't someone to mess with. However, she refused to be cowed. Only a quick, tight squeeze from Vegeta halted the indignant response poised on her tongue. Instinctively, her bound hands crept up Vegeta's shirt, grasping onto the snug material as tight as she could.

"It will be a mighty challenge to break her to you will, Prince Vegeta," Frieza continued. "But very much worth it I'm sure."

Vegeta stiffened. No one spoke of breaking the woman, except him, and he wasn't going to break her. Bulma felt him tremble slightly with barely-suppressed rage. She snuggled into his embrace without thinking, her hold on him tightening as well. It wasn't clear to her why she wanted to reassure Vegeta (the prince was an asshole, after all), but her natural inclinations beat out logic.

_She calms me_, he acknowledged. He knew that now was not the time to provoke Frieza. So, instead, he settled on an arrogant smirk, but his eyes remained frozen with hatred.

"Perhaps so, Lord Frieza," he said tightly.

"She will be a challenge," entered a new voice. "But I wonder if the little monkey-prince is up to it."

Bulma's gaze snapped to the source of the insult, landing on a green-haired humanoid alien standing just behind the one called Frieza. She didn't know how she could have missed him. He towered over the lizard-lord and the Saiya-jins, and simply put, he was gorgeous. Muscular, symmetrical features, long, silky hair. Had Bulma not been a captive slave on a strange planet, she might have been attracted to him. However, her speculation died when she met his amber-colored eyes. They raked over her form in a menacing, lustful way that made her cringe. _What is with these fucking aliens? Can't they get any from their own females?_

"At least I have not been conquered!" snarled Vegeta, sending a pointed glare between Zarbon and his lord.

The lieutenant threw back his head and laughed. "I can clearly see that, weakling. You cling to the female because YOU have conquered her," he mocked.

His triumphant grin widened as Vegeta began snarling, but then he turned reflective, his attention focused on Bulma. "Though, with beauty such as hers, perhaps being one of her conquests would not be so bad."

"Too bad you'll never know," the Prince growled. "I'll blast you into the next dimension before I let that happen!"

"As if you could," Zarbon sneered.

"Enough, children!" Frieza rasped. "As amusing as this little battle is, the beautiful woman is obviously overwhelmed by the admiration of her suitors. Besides, there is much to be discussed, and time is wasting."

"I agree, Lord Frieza," the King said, though he secretly wished he could let Vegeta kick the green-haired alien's ass. "Son, send the woman away for now. You've allowed her to delay us too long." With that, he turned to enter to throne room. Frieza nodded to Bulma, making her nervous by being the focus of his beady, watchful eyes, before he too followed the king, gesturing for Zarbon to do the same.

It was only after they had left that Vegeta relaxed his shoulders, letting Bulma slide her feet to the ground. He kept a firm hold on her waist, however, to ensure she didn't fall. She was clearly shaken by her encounter with the three men, and Vegeta knew that she needed rest. "Woman," he said gently. "Are you alright?"

Bulma's bowed head raised sharply, surprise at Vegeta's concern clearly etched on her face. The man was a mystery. One moment he was ready to tear off the heads of three of the most powerful beings she'd ever encountered, and then the next, he was expressing kindness about her feelings. The thought of Frieza and Zarbon sent a slight shudder through her body.

"What?" the Prince asked. "What is wrong?"

She still did not trust Vegeta, but he obviously had equal, if not greater, distaste for the two aliens than she did. "Nothing...really," she spoke quietly. "It's just...those two are not exactly what I'd call a welcoming committee."

Vegeta half-grinned ironically. "No, they are not what I'd imagined would greet your arrival here. However, they are of no consequence to you. You will never encounter them again. Nor any man I have not authorized you to be with."

Bulma bristled at his arrogance and possessiveness. Once again, he'd gone and ruined what otherwise might have been an actual conversation between them. "Oh, that's right," she said sarcastically. "I'm just a 'little toy' for you to fuck! Never mind that I'm a person with thoughts and feelings just like you."

"Woman-"

"Goddammit! My fucking name is Bulma!" she screeched. "B-U-L-M-A! Bul-ma! Can you not say it?"

"And you should address me as Prince, _woman_! I am your master now, and by gods, you'll give me the respect I deserve!"

"Respect has to be earned, monkey _prince_! And nothing you've done so far is respectable!"

"Woman, I could blast you into the next dimension for you disobedience!"

"Oh, really? You couldn't the other night! In fact, if I remember correctly, it was ME who almost blasted YOU into the next dimension!" Bulma shot back. She wasn't exactly sure if it had happened that way, as her memory was still fuzzy. However, her insult seemed to hit home, she noticed with extreme satisfaction, as the Prince's icy mask of arrogance melted into a snarl of frustration and anger.

"I'm sick of this, woman!" he spit out. "You WILL learn proper respect for me, and so help me, I'll..."

"You'll what?" she sneered. "What will you do? You can't hurt me. Then you wouldn't be able to do your Super Saiya-jin crap. I may not be able to read ki, but I sure as hell know raw power when I feel it. That freaky lizard guy has more than you! He could pound you into the ground with his pinky finger! You NEED me!"

Her words broke Vegeta's patience. He stepped the two feet that separated them, anger burning in his black eyes. Grabbing her shoulders, he clutched her to him in a powerful embrace. "Shut your mouth, woman! I mean it! Just keep your fucking mouth shut!"

"And why should I?" she shot back, too tired and exhausted to care that she'd pushed him beyond his limits.

"Because you'll die if you don't!"

"And what the fuck do you care if I do! For all the consideration you've shown me I may as well be dead!" she screamed.

A memory of her tear-filled eyes flashed unbidden in his mind. All the guilt and anger he'd felt towards himself about his near-rape of her flooded back. He let go of his frustration with her, slumping a little in defeat. His arms moved from her shoulders to her waist, crushing her to him in a desperate embrace. He didn't even care that Radditz and Nappa were witnesses to his display of weakness. Vegeta just needed to hold her against him, just needed to reassure himself that she really wasn't going anywhere. He had to know that he hadn't totally lost any chance with her.

Bulma stood in Vegeta's arms, once again at a loss for how to react. With one breath, he threatened to kill her. Then, she was in his arms. She was still in a state of confusion when his mouth claimed hers, and Bulma reacted out of pure instinct.

She kissed him back.

Logic told her she should fight, that she should struggle, but at that one moment in time, logic could fuck itself for all Bulma cared. Her mouth devoured his as ravenously as he tasted her. Their tongues mingled in an endless duel for control, for domination, and, ultimately, for acceptance. She melted into him, and for one moment, didn't let guilt or despair drive a wedge into their passion.

But just as suddenly as the flame burst between them, it extinguished itself. The Prince's pride reminded him that he was in front of his soldiers, and while he did not care what they thought, it was his duty to try to maintain some sense of focus. Vegeta pulled back from her roughly, his breathing harsh and uneven. He stepped away, wanting to put as much physical distance between them as possible.

"Radditz..." he panted.

The slightly stunned warrior moved into his lord's line of vision. "Yes, Sire?"

"Take the woman to Len'ah. Tell her to watch over her until I get there. It shouldn't be too long. Don't leave. Protect her."

"As you wish."

Bulma was breathing as hard as Vegeta, though she seemed to take a little longer to recover. She offered no protest as Radditz gently grasped her arm and pulled her towards another set of doors adjacent to the throne-room entrance.

Vegeta didn't take his eyes off of her until she disappeared.

Once she was gone, he turned to Nappa. "Inform my staff that we will be moving to my summer home in the mountains. I want the place habitable within the next three hours."

Nappa bowed and left.

The Prince then turned his attention to the three men awaiting him in the throne room, trying with every fiber of his being to forget the blue-haired woman, if only for a few hours.

**A/N: Any guesses about Len'ah? If you know it, please don't spoil it for newbies. **

**See ya next time!**


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII - The Plot Thickens**

**Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.  
~ Sydney J. Harris  
**

* * *

AS BULMA TRAILED Radditz down the long corridor, she took the time to recover herself from Vegeta's kiss. She'd kissed him before, so why was this one affecting her so strongly? Her stomach rolled with confusion and turmoil; she didn't know what she was doing.

And Vegeta certainly wasn't helping her. _How dare he!_, she fumed. _He treats me like I'm a piece of property._ _But then again, I guess that's what I am._ The thought once again caused despair to swell within her. Her friends, her home, her life: all had been abandoned. Everything she knew, everything that defined who she was…was gone. She couldn't see a way out.

All because of **him**. And yet, even after all he'd done, she couldn't deny her attraction. She felt like she betrayed, was betraying, the memory of Yamcha.

But he had never given her one iota of pleasure that Vegeta could. The Prince was obsessed, and her vanity and curiosity wouldn't allow her to ignore that. _Gah! This is so fucked up!_

The night she'd had too much dragonsblood, Bulma had experienced ecstasy in Vegeta's arms. Granted, at first she thought she had been dreaming, but even in the dream, it was the Prince who touched her and made her feel as if she was going to die from pleasure. It was only when she'd awakened and realized that it actually **was** Vegeta making love to her that her mind had spurned him, even as her body yearned for his. She knew she should be angry with him for his violation of her person, but Bulma was angrier with herself. _How can I be attracted to him, dammit?_

Next to her, Radditz stoically guided them through the twisting cavern of maze-like halls. He was not unaware of her defeated spirit, for his furtive glances at the blue-haired beauty revealed tears shining in the corners of her eyes. The warrior wanted to help ease her pain, but was at a loss at how to do so.

Finally, when her delicate shoulders began to slump, he decided to break the ice. "Lady, what's troubling you?," he queried softly.

Bulma turned her lovely face upwards, the dim torchlight of the hallways making her tearstained cheeks glisten. "What makes you think anything is wrong?"

Radditz stopped walking and looked down at her. Instead of answering, he gently brushed a hand across her face and then raised it high enough for her to see the moisture gathered on his fingertips.

"Oh!" Bulma sniffled. "I didn't even realize..."

He gazed upon her with fatherly affection as she hastily wiped away the tears with a trembling hand. "Again, Lady, I ask. What is so bad?"

Touched by his concern and utterly overwhelmed by his seemingly genuine offer of friendship, she cried harder. "I don't know. I'm alive, at least, and it appears I am to be treated better than I expected, but..."

"But you still have lost everything," Radditz finished in a rare moment of sympathy.

Bulma nodded her head vigorously, relieved that someone seemed to understand her pain. Anger flashed in her eyes as she thought about Vegeta's insensitivity. "_He_ certainly doesn't care," she hissed. "And he is the cause of all my misery!"

To have verbalized his agreement would have meant betraying his Prince. So, Radditz simply stated, "Lady, all will be well. The Prince has grown a deep affection for you, despite what may be deemed his inability to show it. Why, even after only a few days, he has raised you to the status of a lady."

Bulma couldn't contain a burst of ironic laughter. "Lady? Is that the title afforded to a private whore?"

Radditz frowned in confusion. "Whore? You are not a whore, Lady. Being the Royal Concubine of the Prince ranks you as the second most powerful, non-Saiya-jin female."

"Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Lady."

"And that's why you keep calling me that? Before it was just 'girl'," she teased lightly, seemingly a bit more at ease now that someone had seconded Vegeta's promise of her respectability.

The Royal Guard flashed a grin, glad he had made her smile, if only for a moment. "That was before I knew of your esteemed position, Lady."

Bulma reeled with this newfound knowledge. She actually had power, as a concubine? The way of the Saiya-jins certainly was different from that of the Chikyuu-jins. _Of course Vegeta wouldn't have told me_, she thought darkly, slightly irritated once again. But her interest was piqued, and she pushed the Prince from her mind, if only for a moment.

"What sort of powers do I have?" she asked, already hoping to find a way to get back home.

"Not many really, Lady," Radditz replied, seeing her interest in the news evaporate.

"Well then, what good does my new, wonderful position do?"

Her sarcasm seemed to be lost on the Royal Elite as he scratched his head, pondering her question. "Well, as you know, everyone must treat you with respect. You'll also accompany the Prince to various social functions, I'm sure, and pretty much do what the rest of us do around here: serve the royal family."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I'm beginning to think that I'd be better off mentioning this whole Key business."

She watched in shock as anger swept over Radditz' face. "Lady," he said with gritted teeth, "You will not find happiness if you reveal your true status now. You'd be killed."

"Then why the hell was I brought here? I'm starting to get sick of the 'you'll be killed' if you do such and such response!"

"You're the Key. That's why Vegeta took you."

"I know that! But what good does my presence do if he doesn't tell anyone?" she asked, extremely frustrated by Radditz' lack of comprehension.

"He will, Lady. He will," the Saiya-jin stated firmly, trying to calm her down. _Damn, she's moody._ "Initially, he took you with every intention of using you to enhance his abilities as the Super Saiya-jin, but then circumstances changed."

Her face crinkled with confusion. "How so?"

"The other night, when you had too much dragonsblood, and he, uh, the Prince, well...he tried to..."

"There was no 'tried'!" she roared. "He _did_ take advantage of me!"

"Uh, well, right. Like you said," Radditz agreed reluctantly. "Anyway, you were able to power up enough to blast him off of you. It would appear that just like you are the Key to his power, he's the key to yours."

"Come again?" she asked incredulously. "That was me? I don't remember that night too well, but I know he got knocked into the wall. I just figured that it was you who'd rescued me."

"No, Lady," Radditz replied, shaking his head. "Nappa and I had just gotten out of the regen tanks when we heard the crash. I thought he'd done something to you, but when we went into the room, you were passed out on the bed, and he was leaning against the wall, surrounded by broken glass. His shoulder was also a bit singed."

"Wow," Bulma murmured. "I never even realized..."

"The Prince said your power level rose to almost 50,000. His tops off at 110,000. In just one blow, you surged to a level near half his own."

Her eyes widened in further disbelief. _My gods, I never even dreamed..._Many times she'd envied her friends their ability to fight and fly, but had also accepted long ago that she'd never be strong enough to join them in battle. But now it was different. Her mind reeled with the possibilities.

"That means I may be able to get off this hellhole..." she whispered to herself.

Radditz, however, ignored her seemingly oblivious state of mind and yanked her back to reality. "Don't even think about it, Lady. You may have fought off Prince Vegeta once, but that was mainly due to surprise. He'd be ready if there was a next time. Besides, you'd have to train for years to regain that kind of power without being under extreme emotional duress."

"Humph," Bulma sniffed. "Shows what you know! Maybe I'll just train then."

"Right, Lady," Radditz said, grinning in amusement. "As if Vegeta would allow you to train above the settings of your ki diffuser."

"My ki-what?"

"Ki diffuser. Yours is set in one of those bracelets. It's a sort of dampening device. Weakens you capabilities. The Prince has yours set to 5,000, which isn't very much, at least here on Vegetasei. Most third class infants are born with a higher level than that. The only way you're going to get stronger is by the Prince's wish, and if you only want to train in order to defeat him so you can leave, he'll never go for it. Prince Vegeta has already proven that he has no intentions of letting you go."

Radditz tried to soften the bluntness of his words with a gentle tone of voice, but the hope that had lit Bulma's sky-colored eyes vanished all too quickly. _Oh, well_, he thought. _The sooner she begins to understand that there is no escape, the easier it will be for her to grow accustomed to her new life._

Bulma felt to last vestiges of hope fly away from her, leaving in its wake a cold cynicism that told her she should never have given in to hope in the first place. Radditz was right. Vegeta was never going to let her go. Even if somehow she managed to get off the planet, he'd only hunt her down and bring her back. While she might convince him to let her train, it would be years, perhaps even decades, before she'd be on par with his level, and that didn't take into account any progress he might make. She understood her predicament clearly.

She belonged to Vegeta. Mind, body, and now… soul.

"I understand," Bulma stated finally, her quiet anger causing her to tremble slightly. "I understand now why he refused to remove the bracelets. He has me bound to him in all ways."

Though Radditz didn't agree completely with the way Vegeta had treated Bulma, he still felt honor bound to defend his Prince, even if it was only to a small degree. "He binds you in such a way to also protect your life."

"Right!" she snorted.

"I speak the truth, Lady," he replied. "If other Saiya-jins were to discover your potential before you'd fully developed it, they would be free to challenge you, and Vegeta would be powerless to stop it. That doesn't mean he wouldn't try, though, and in doing so, he would lose his honor. So you see, he does this to protect you."

"But I've already got a diffuser on. The others will know I've got some ki capabilities," she argued.

"True," Radditz agreed. "However, a scouter can't read the ki levels of a person fixed with a diffuser. Besides, most slaves are fitted with one if they have a level over 100 as a precaution. No one will think anything of it."

"Well, it looks as though Vegeta has himself prepared from every angle," Bulma replied sardonically.

"Not only is the Prince a fierce warrior, but he is also an excellent strategist," Radditz granted. "Now, if you'll follow me, we must continue."

He took her silence to be consent and began walking down the dim corridor once more, content to let the blue-haired concubine trail behind him.

Little did Radditz know that there was one angle Vegeta couldn't have thought of, and that was Bulma's technical ingenuity. While these new developments did set her back, she was determined to find a way to break her bonds. As she began developing different ideas, she knew it'd only be a matter of time before she was free.

* * *

VEGETA WATCHED AS Radditz guided Bulma through the main doors to the rest of the palace before he himself entered the throne room. It pained him to send her away so soon after their landing. However, with Frieza and Zarbon planet side, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he was keeping her anywhere near them. The only place she'd be safe was in the Hall of Concubines with Len'ah. The King's Favorite would ensure Bulma was well-cared for in the Prince's absence.

Usually Vegeta would be troubled by his sudden concern for the woman's comfort, but he was too fucking tired to worry about his lapse into weakness. He knew perfectly well both Nappa and Radditz had been horrified by his kissing the blue-haired woman right in front of them, but Vegeta found himself not caring. The Prince convinced himself he was just practicing such tactics in order to prepare the woman for her public duties as his concubine. It was wholly permissible to touch and kiss one's property in front of others. He had just never made a practice of doing so.

Until now.

The thought of being able to touch and kiss Bulma anytime and anywhere he pleased put the Saiya-jin no Ouji in a good enough mood that he felt he would be able to tolerate Frieza and Zarbon for a few minutes at least. Then he'd collect the woman and whisk her away to his private home off the palace grounds. His father wouldn't like his son's absence after his trip to Chikyuu, but Vegeta wasn't about to let Bulma remain in the palace overnight. He'd just tell his father to go fuck himself.

The relationship between the King of the Saiya-jins and his heir was a strained one at best. Vegeta, though he'd been out from under Frieza's thumb for almost ten years, still could not forgive his father for turning him over to the tyrant at the tender age of five and leaving him to Frieza's 'tutoring' for another decade. The pain and humiliation Vegeta had endured under the lizard and Zarbon would have broken a lesser man, but the Prince had been able to break the yoke of his servitude at fifteen after defeating Zarbon in a challenge. Vegeta wasn't supposed to have won, but the gods had been on his side that day.

After returning to Vegetasei, he had resumed his royal duties, though he'd treated the King with barely-concealed contempt. The first few years had been spent trying to put his horrific childhood behind him, but then Frieza had reappeared to enter into an alliance with the Saiya-jins. If the ruthless warriors would purge planets for him, they'd get a certain percentage of the price the newly 'cleansed' planet brought when it was sold to the highest bidder.

With greed in his eyes, the King had agreed and made his son personally in charge of all the purging missions. Though he didn't like the idea of an alliance with Frieza, Vegeta had thrown himself into his new line of work, relishing the bloodshed and destruction he caused. It helped him grow stronger so that one day he'd be able to overthrow his father from the throne and then exact revenge on his enemies.

_And the day for my vengeance is soon at hand_, he thought darkly as he entered the throne room. His father watched his smirking son, clearly not pleased with Vegeta's blatant display of confidence. Frieza and Zarbon looked as though they chocked the Prince's wicked grin to the natural superiority displayed by all royalty. They didn't seem to consider him a real threat. _Just you wait..._

"Well, brat," the King boomed, interrupting his heir's inward gloating. "Now that the blue-haired bitch is taken care of, do you have the time to spare to discuss the business at hand?"

"Don't address her as such!" Vegeta bristled. "And why the fuck should I discuss Saiya-jin business in front of these two?" he asked contemptuously, glaring at Frieza and Zarbon.

"My dear Prince," Frieza said, "I have no desire to keep you from your prize any longer than is necessary. I do, however, have a great interest in the how the rest of your mission on Chikyuu went."

"It was fruitless," Vegeta answered, figuring the best way to get away from the alien was to respond to his questions. "The planet had no merits of which to speak, and its population was too weak and stupid to be of any use as slaves. I destroyed it."

Frieza's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And yet you returned with a rather delectable souvenir..."

"So?" Vegeta replied belligerently. "She was the only thing on that mudball worth saving."

He could see the doubt in the alien's demeanor, and it only angered him more. The sly bastard wasn't supposed to know he'd been gone. _How the hell did he find out I was going to Chikyuu?_ Vegeta had originally traveled there in order to retrieve Kakkarot. As far as he knew, Frieza should not have been aware of the infant purging missions of long ago.

"Do you think to challenge my honor?" he growled.

"Of course not, princeling," Frieza said soothingly. "I only mean to point out that perhaps you were a bit hasty in your complete annihilation of the Chikyuu-jin population. If you had reigned in your bloodlust, perhaps we could have discovered more jewels such as yours. However, patience was never a skill I could instill in you, so your actions are not surprising."

The lizard being smirked as he saw Vegeta's face flush with rage at this dressing down and at the reminder that the Prince had once been at his complete and utter mercy. However, Frieza did have to rethink his opinion about Vegeta's lack of patience when he realized that it was that virtue that prevented the Saiya-jin from trying to blast him away right then and there.

"Well, Lord Frieza," the Prince replied with gritted teeth, "some things must be developed by oneself and not another."

"A very true and very wise observation, boy," the King interrupted, hoping to forestall any other arguments. "My son was perhaps too overzealous in his desire to bring about chaos and destruction, but what did the planet really have to offer? Simple pleasure slaves are to be found in abundance throughout the galaxy. While Vegeta's newest acquisition is quite stunning, there are plenty of her types to be captured and used."

Vegeta wanted to scream at the blatant ignorance that his father displayed. No other woman like Bulma existed in the universe, and she had more uses than just simple fucking. The Prince smirked as he realized yet another effect the blue-haired woman had had on him. Before her, he'd had no use for women other than for a few hours of pleasure. With Bulma, he knew he wouldn't be satisfied with just that. She stimulated him mentally as well as physically. Vegeta should have shunned the emotional upheaval she caused in him, but he found it too beguiling, too addictive, to not give in. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get back to Bulma.

With that thought in mind, he demanded, "What else do you want of me?"

Frieza turned his gaze to the King, sensing that the Saiya-jin monarch wanted to speak further with his son. _Probably to warn him to treat me with more respect._ The tyrant would have loved to see Vegeta fall further from grace, but knew the King would not air his complaints in front of guests. "There is nothing more I require from either of you, my lords, for now at least," he stated. "Come, Zarbon, I do believe father and son have much to discuss."

* * *

FRIEZA BOWED HIS head to both royals and motioned his lieutenant to follow him. The blue-skinned alien gestured his deference to the King, but only spared the Prince a fierce glare, which was returned with equal fire and hatred. However, Zarbon said nothing until he was sure he and his lord were alone and a good ways from the throne room.

"The Prince has grown more powerful and more arrogant."

"Yes, indeed, he has," Frieza agreed with some resignation. "I'd had high hopes for him, but this time away from him has only made him more unruly. It is a pity."

Zarbon's handsome face twisted in confusion. "How so, my lord?"

"He will have to be dealt with."

"Ah, I see," murmured his second-in-command. "Dare I ask for privilege of destroying the monkey-prince?"

Frieza snorted in derision. "What makes you think you can? He has defeated you once already, and as you so astutely pointed out, he has only grown stronger. No, no. Don't whine. I'm not finished yet. I don't want to risk losing you, so Vegeta must be dealt with subtly. You cannot directly challenge him, not without ruining my plans for this flea-bitten race. Harm to his heir would only anger the King at this juncture."

"Then how shall we go about constructing Vegeta's downfall?"

"A very good question, my dear boy. I propose we don't lift a finger, at least not right away."

"What?"

"Ah, Zarbon, even after all these years, you still cannot see the bigger picture, so I will lay it out for you. Follow me carefully. Did you not see the way the Prince looked at his little toy?"

"Yes, of course. Who could have not noticed it? He is completely infatuated."

"I would agree. He has allowed himself to become weak with his obsession with her. The Saiya-jins will not tolerate it."

"But they've never had a problem with alien concubines before. Even the King himself has kept one, the same one, for almost thirty years," Zarbon argued.

"Yes, but the King never ventured to make Len'ah his mate."

"And you think Vegeta will?"

"I know he will," Frieza stated smugly.

"This should be interesting."

"Don't get snippy with me, Zarbon. You may be my favorite, but even you must be bound by respect. Never forget that," Frieza warned.

The blue alien dipped his head in apology. "I am sorry, my lord."

"I know you are," Frieza said warmly, patting his lieutenant on the shoulder, his quicksilver temper returning to good. "Anyway, I know Vegeta. He will make the blue-haired bitch his mate."

"But how do you know?"

"In all the years I trained him, I learned many things about the Saiya-jin Prince. One is that he never does anything halfway. Two, try as he might not to, Vegeta feels...deeply. Whether it is anger or hatred or any other emotion, it burns within him with a fierce intensity. He is never indifferent."

Zarbon was mildly disturbed by the power of his lord's perceptive capabilities. _How much does he know of my true character?_ Though always outwardly loyal to Frieza, he did not live for the lizard's pleasure alone, as Frieza wanted. Zarbon's number one priority was himself.

But thoughts of his lieutenant's other activities were far from Frieza's mind as he continued. "I did my best to squelch any love that Vegeta may have possessed, but the little whore has awakened something inside him that closely resembles that vile emotion. It is through this that the mighty Saiya-jin Prince will fall."

"But how can you know for sure?" Zarbon asked, still confused.

Frieza frowned at the green-haired man, displeased by the density of his mind sometimes. "It is clear as day, you fool! Vegeta is already beginning to love the girl, though he may not call it love. But what he calls it doesn't matter. All that matters is that his feelings for the bitch will intensify to the point of no return, as is Vegeta's nature. He will instinctively want to consummate their relationship to the fullest. For Saiya-jins, this means to forge a mated bond."

Zarbon's eyes lit with understanding. "If he always himself to bond with her, it will be his end. The Saiya-jins will not accept an alien queen, and Vegeta will be made even more vulnerable. He couldn't kill her once they're bonded. To do so would mean his own death. Were anything painful or harmful to befall her, the Prince would feel it as well," he said wickedly.

"Yes, yes dear boy!" Frieza hissed. "Finally you comprehend. Once the bonding is complete, we can either kill the girl or use her to control him."

Zarbon's amber eyes gleamed with lust at the thought of Bulma at his mercy. "I would prefer the latter, Lord Frieza, at least for awhile. I too must admit being stunned by the girl's, er, charms."

"I noticed," his master replied dryly. "It does not have to be decided yet what will be done with the girl, for it will take time for the bonding to occur. Until then, we bide our time, comforted by the knowledge that Vegeta will be the cause of his own destruction."

Both men continued towards Frieza's ship, evilly delighted by their plan to bring down the mighty Saiya-jin no Ouji.

* * *

VEGETA WATCHED THE two aliens exit with a sneer twisting his saturnine features. "I don't know why you tolerate them."

"Because one is the most powerful being this side of the galaxy, and the other is his bitch," the King snapped. "You must tread carefully with those two, Vegeta. We cannot afford to offend either of them at this juncture."

"I wasn't aware that the Saiya-jin Empire bowed down to the whims of a psychotic tyrant and his lackey," Vegeta challenged.

"Normally we don't. However, that 'psychotic tyrant' has expressed dissatisfaction with our current alliance."

"So? Let them break the agreement. What the fuck does it matter?"

"Because he has hinted at the desire to add Vegetasei and her territories to his own expanding empire," his father replied in resignation.

"What?" Vegeta raged. "That is ridiculous! He goes too far!"

"I know, but we don't have the power to stop him."

The Prince snarled in frustration. It was just like his father to capitulate to the tyrant. "We could still stand up to him!"

"And have all our warriors die?" the King asked belligerently.

"At least we would die with honor!" Vegeta roared back. The Prince knew Frieza would never overtake the empire, not now that he'd become the Super Saiya-jin. But he was thoroughly disgusted by his father's unwillingness to make sacrifices.

"What good does honor do a race that is extinct?" the King demanded. "Look, this question is not going to be answered by us shouting at one another. We've a more pressing issue facing us. There is a traitor in our midst."

The Prince's eyes widened in shock. "I don't believe it. No Saiya-jin worthy of his name would betray us."

"I once would have said the same thing, but someone has been leaking information to Frieza. How do you think he knew about your mission to Chikyuu?"

"It wasn't like my destination was a big secret. Plenty of people knew where I was going."

"Yes, but not why," his father answered. "Frieza knew you were going to retrieve a lost Saiya-jin warrior."

"Fuck me!" Vegeta hissed.

"Exactly, my son. We were lucky this time that the information leaked was not that sensitive. Next time, who knows?"

The Prince's vision blurred red. _How dare the cowardly bastard betray his own race!_ "Father, I will hunt down this traitor, and he will pay. I swear it!"

"Good," the King nodded. "Until then, any royal business is on a strict need-to-basis. Don't even hint about this knowledge to anyone, especially Frieza and Zarbon. And don't go spouting off any of this to that new bitch of yours either-!"

"I know all of this!" Vegeta shouted, irritated that his father dared to instruct him in anything. As far as he was concerned, the King didn't have any rights to do so. He'd given those up twenty years before.

"Vegeta," the King snapped. "Listen to me! We...I...cannot afford to lose you-"

"It's a bit too late for fatherly concern, Your Highness," Vegeta spit out.

Shame immediately clouded the King's face. He had learned bits and pieces of what Vegeta had suffered at the hands of Frieza from Len'ah and cursed himself everyday for handing his son over to the tyrant. The King would give anything to take back that decision. "Son, I..."

"Forget it, old man," Vegeta cut him off. "What's done is done."

With that, he turned sharply and exited the room, leaving his father to sag his shoulders in regret, burdened with the knowledge that his cowardice had cost him his only child.

* * *

BULMA WAS SO lost in thought that she didn't realize that Radditz had stopped walking until she ran right smack into his back. She stumbled, but the warrior steadied her before she fell on her ass. Looking at her surroundings, she saw that they'd stopped in front of a large, heavy-looking set of doors.

"Where are we?" she murmured.

"The Hall of Concubines," Radditz replied. "It's the only place in the palace you'll be safe until Frieza and his men leave."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought we were going to Len'ah."

"We are. She's in there."

"Oh," Bulma said meekly, having mistaken Len'ah for a place.

Radditz turned from her and slowly pushed one of the doors open. "Follow me, Lady, and please be quiet. Speak to Lady Len'ah only when she addresses you."

"Who is she?"

"The King's Favorite. The Mistress of the Hall of Concubines. She's the only non-Saiya-jin woman who outranks you. She's been the King's Royal Concubine for almost thirty years, and as such, commands almost as much respect and reverence as him."

"Oh," she said again, unsure of how to respond.

The Elite Guardsman led her down another dim passageway to a curtained entrance way guarded by another Saiya-jin. He spoke at some length with the guard in what Bulma could only assume was the native language of Vegetasei. After several moments, the guard pulled aside the heavy curtain and gestured her and Radditz through.

When Bulma stepped into the next room, she was struck by its beauty. Natural light kissed the cream-with-silver-veins marble walls through a skylight high in the ceiling, making the circular chamber seem much larger. A small pool with a variety of fish and plant life gurgled in the center of the floor, and several gauzy curtains draped over several different entrances.

A sudden movement in of those entrances caught Bulma's attention, and her eyes fell upon perhaps the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. The female was about Bulma's height and size, but her coloring was more exotic. She had a coal-black complexion, sparkling silver eyes, and a thick fall of shiny, ruby-red hair. Everything about her screamed femininity and elegance, and she moved with the litheness of a panther. Bulma could easily see her as the embodiment as of what it meant to be a pleasure slave. Sensual, exotic, and mysterious.

The woman beamed a welcoming smile at the blue-haired concubine. "I know my son has good taste," she said in a low, warm voice. "But I never knew this good."

Bulma was caught off-guard, still trapped by the woman's stunning appearance. "I-I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, my dear! I know he's selfish and arrogant, but at least he could have told you where you were going."

"Your-your son?"

"Yes, my dear. Since he obviously didn't tell you who I was, please allow me to introduce myself," the woman said.

She extended a long, graceful arm towards Bulma, grasping her hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm Len'ah, Vegeta's mother.

* * *

**A/N: Mwhahaha! To get the next part, review please! I'd like 10 to post the next chapter! **


	10. Chapter 8

A Real Conversation

A/N: You guys are awesome! Thank you so much!

Okay, this chapter is a little lengthy and has changed substantially. I have also rewritten it while hyped-up on painkillers and Cheez-its. I had a tooth pulled today. If anything doesn't make sense, please let me know!

Enjoy!

* * *

"M-m-mother?" Bulma stammered, still in shock over Len'ah's revelation.

Though she hadn't known Vegeta that long, she'd never pictured him having a mother. Logically, she knew that he had to have had one at some point, but he treated women so dispassionately, she couldn't fathom any female having been present in his childhood. _Looks like I pegged that one wrong..._It also made her begin to question the other negative assumptions she'd made about the Prince.

"Yes, my dear," Len'ah answered; her silver eyes burned with barely-contained mirth. "I know it must come as a sort of surprise. After all, there's loophole the Saiya-jin law and not knowing him very long."

"L-law?

"Oh, dear," the woman murmured. "Vegeta has explained nothing to you, has he? And here I am rambling on like a loon! Well, I guess it's up to me to fill in all the holes. Please, why don't you follow me to my private chambers? They're much more comfortable. Radditz, you won't mind waiting out here, will you? Asparga, my official bodyguard, is on duty at the main door…perhaps you can get caught up with him?"

Her glowing eyes lighted on him in such a sweet, docile way that the seasoned warrior was hesitant for a moment. Though he'd seen Len'ah many times, he still could never seem to adjust to her beauty. He didn't know how the King did it. It was then he noticed that she was looking at him quite expectantly, and he realized he hadn't comprehended a thing she'd said. "I beg your pardon, Lady?"

"I was just about to ask if you'd be comfortable waiting out here with Asparga while I have a little chat with...?"

"Bulma," the girl responded.

"With Bulma? We shouldn't take too long."

"Actually, Lady Len'ah," Radditz said quietly. "Prince Vegeta ordered me to remain with Lady Bulma."

"Oh, well then, by all means, join us," she replied warmly. "We wouldn't want you to disobey orders. Please, follow me."

Bulma wasn't quite sure what to make of the woman who called herself Vegeta's mother. He didn't look anything like her. Radditz had told her that Len'ah had been the King's concubine for almost thirty years, making it possible that the woman had indeed given birth to the Prince, but she didn't look much older than Bulma herself. Len'ah also seemed almost too open and friendly, but perhaps Bulma had spent too much time in the presence of grouchy Saiya-jins. _One in particular_, she thought ruefully.

Maybe that was also why she was having a difficult wrapping her mind around the idea that Vegeta could even have a mother. Their personalities totally clashed. Bulma didn't need convincing that the King was Vegeta's father. Not only did the Saiya-jin no Ouji resemble the Saiya-jin no Ou physically, but their mentalities were also very much the same. Cold, harsh, unforgiving, self-righteous, stubborn, inconsiderate, selfish..._Whoa, slow down, girl. No use working yourself into a state..._Though she did end her mental litany of Vegeta's flaws, she also recognized that while Len'ah's kindness was a bit overwhelming, it was also genuine.

The ruby-haired woman led them down the same hall she'd entered from, and Bulma was surprised that there seemed to be only one room at the end of the corridor. She could only assume it was the concubine's private quarters.

Stepping into the spacious room, she was once again struck by the beauty of Saiya-jin architecture. Much like the antechamber of the Hall, this new room was circular, complete with a skylight, only it was made of black marble veined with streaks of gold. The first room appeared to be a general living area, with several chairs and lounges scattered about the room as well as pieces of artwork. A curtained archway lead into another room, which Bulma supposed was the bedroom.

However, her speculation ended when Len'ah gestured towards a group of chairs to the left. She glanced back at Radditz and saw another warrior that she didn't know. Asparga, perhaps? Either way, both men grinned with encouragement, but remained by the door on guard. Their duties did not include sitting and chatting with royal concubines.

Bulma made her way over to a fur-covered love seat while Len'ah perched on a nearby matching chair. "Don't be so overwhelmed, my dear," she said. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

"I guess I'm still in a semi-state of shock...what with meeting those weird aliens and the King...and now you..." Bulma's voice trailed off.

"Oh no! You had to meet Zarbon and Frieza," Len'ah said with sympathy. "Those two do not exactly provide a good first impression of Vegetasei, I'm afraid to say. I know they put the King in a foul mood. It could not have been reassuring at all."

Bulma flushed a bit, fearing that nothing would able to ever reassure her again. She felt like she wanted to burst into tears, especially when confronted by the warmth and welcome offered by Len'ah. However, she had cried enough tears, at least for now.

"No, Lady, it was not," she finally replied. "However, you're kindness does do me some comfort."

"Well, my dear, though it was many years ago, I still remember my first days here. They were much like your own, I'm sure. Despair and uncertainty were my constant companions. I'm also sure my son hasn't done much by way of explaining anything to you, which only adds to your frustration."

"It certainly does," Bulma agreed. "He doesn't say much except to order me around or insult me. The only thing I know is that I'm his concubine, and I have to wear this...uniform."

It was then that Len'ah noticed the girl's state of dress. By the horrified look on her delicate features, Bulma could only assume something was wrong.

"Oh, Vegeta," Len'ah muttered to herself, as if forgetting momentarily that others were in the room with her. "You never stop to think..."

Then she stood and stalked across the room to a black lacquer wardrobe. Reaching into it, she pulled out a gauzy white garment and a pair of brown sandals. She inspected both articles of clothing and finding them satisfactory, brought them to Bulma.

"These are the actual everyday clothing of a concubine," she explained. "The gown you're wearing is usually reserved only for special occasions. It may have been the only thing Vegeta had that was appropriate, but I also know my son. He probably just wanted to see you in it; though I'm sure he regretted his decision once he saw how Zarbon reacted to you."

Bulma could not picture Zarbon in her mind, since she was unconscious at the time. _How does this woman know?_ she wondered. Her thoughts were interrupted when she met Len'ah's eyes again. They seemed to dance merrily at the thought of her son's jealous temper, especially in regards to the blue-skinned alien. Bulma, however, wasn't too sure he'd made her wear the skimpy outfit for his pleasure. She'd bet her life that it was done to make her feel insecure and exposed. He was determined to, as he put it, 'put her in her place.' Of course, just thinking about the Prince made Bulma's blood boil, and she was once again in a fuming mood. However, she was determined not to let Len'ah see her anger.

Bulma clutched the new clothes to her, especially the shoes. The halls of the palace were quite cold, and her bare feet hitting the stone floors certainly didn't take away the chill. "Thank you, Lady," she said. "Your kindness is very much appreciated."

She smiled shyly at Vegeta's mother. Len'ah wasn't quite sure what to make of the girl. Bulma seemed almost too docile to have caught her son's attention. She was quiet and demure, probably not at all well-equipped to deal with Vegeta's moodiness. He would see her hesitation and gratitude as weaknesses and abuse her for them. Len'ah was determined to give Bulma the upper hand in something. If she knew the truth about Vegeta's parentage, she was sure he would have to be kind to her, if only to keep her from talking.

Len'ah returned the smile with one of her own. "It's my pleasure, dear. Unfortunately, you probably won't get much consideration from my son. I know that might sound harsh coming from me, his mother, but I'm not blind in my devotion to my offspring. I know his faults, and I know he is often incapable of showing any emotion besides anger or hatred, though I do believe he must harbor a great affection for you to have made you his concubine at first sight."

It was the second time that someone close to the Prince had remarked about the likelihood of him caring about her, and this sentiment disturbed Bulma to no end. _How can Vegeta care for me when he treats me so coldly, as if I am indeed a toy to be played with only at his convenience?_ She also didn't like the little burst of excitement that sang through her veins at the thought of capturing part of Vegeta's heart. _Don't fool yourself, Bulma. He doesn't have one._ She struggled to remind herself that she had yet to see proof that he wasn't a cold, selfish bastard. It was much more comforting to view him that way.

To Len'ah, she simply said, "I don't know. Most of the time he acts like I'm a burden."

"Oh, that's just the Saiya-jin male's way of letting his female know he cares," she assured Bulma. "I know it sounds backwards, but they figure by reminding us of the lengths they go to protect and provide for us, that we're important. They think it's a show of weakness to come out and actually say it. Vegeta's father is the same way."

"Lady, if you don't mind my asking," Bulma said tentatively, "I'm most curious as to how you're Vegeta's mother."

"Well, my dear, I feel that that is probably a story best reserved for Vegeta's telling," Len'ah replied. "After all, the truth has the most impact upon his life. That is why I've told you that I am his mother. You too are now a part of his life, one I don't think he'll ever give up, so therefore you must be prepared."

"I'm afraid I don't follow you, Lady," Bulma said, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Well, first of all, I guess I should apologize to you..."

"Whatever for?"

"For putting your life in danger."

Bulma's eyes widened at the Lady's proclamation. "How am I endangered by you?"

"Not by me, dear," Len'ah replied softly. "But by the knowledge you will hold. You see, no one except for myself, the King, Vegeta, Nappa, Asparga and Radditz know the truth of Vegeta's parentage. It is imperative that this information not fall into the wrong hands, but I trust you. My intuition is never wrong."

"I still don't understand...please do not stop. I wish to hear the story."

"Very well, my dear, I'll be perfectly blunt. If the whole of Vegetasei knew the information I'm about to impart to you, the monarchy could collapse. Both the King and the Prince, and their closest friends and advisors, would be charged with treason and perhaps even executed. Bulma blinked, letting the heaviness of Len'ah's words fall upon her. "Wow."

"I tell you the truth about my son so you can better understand him. Also, it might be nice to have some cannon fodder to throw back into his face whenever he becomes too big of a pain in the ass," she finished with a merrily-wicked glint in her eye.

"He's already there," Bulma muttered. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth, ashamed at having insulted the man in front of his mother. "I'm sorry, Lady Len'ah. I had no right to say that..."

"No, you didn't, woman," a new voice ground out. "You should learn your place!"

Bulma jumped at the harsh grating of Vegeta's voice, but he continued his tirade. "You also need to learn respect! It is respect for one's superiors that marks a good slave."

"Well, then I guess I just won't make a good slave, monkey boy!" Bulma retorted, angry with him for interrupting what had been a pleasant conversation with his mother. "And how many times do I have to tell you! My name is Bulma!"

"I refuse to validate your existence with a name until you can address me properly as the Prince! You don't deserve the dignity!"

Both parties at this point were flushed and breathing heavy. Len'ah could immediately see that her first impression of Bulma as a wallflower was inaccurate. The blue-haired beauty could hold her own against Vegeta in a verbal spar. _And I'm sure there will plenty of them_, she thought. _Finally he has met his match._ She could only hope he wouldn't ride roughshod over the girl's feelings. Passion burned in her son's coal eyes as he raked a furious gaze down the length of Bulma's figure. Len'ah fervently hoped the girl had the strength to help her son make the transition from obsession to actual love. _Just please, dear gods, don't let him be like his father..._

Bulma was infuriated, both at Vegeta and at herself. _How dare he yell at me!_ she fumed. _And how dare I find myself loving his attention! _Confusion waged war with her logic, producing only anger and frustration. It was her only defense mechanism at this point besides a complete mental breakdown, and she'd be damned if she'd let him that. "I don't need you to validate my existence, you full-of-shit, chauvinistic baka!"

Vegeta growled. "Dammit, woman! Don't make me force you to learn your place!"

"I know my place very well, thank you very much! It's as far away as possible from you!"

"So long as you learn respect, I don't care where you go!" he lied through gritted teeth. He did care. The Prince wasn't about to let her out of his sight, but he was too far gone in the throes of the argument to care about logic and reason. All that mattered was winning.

"Well, then, I'll just go home now!" Bulma roared as she rose from her seat, approaching the door. As she crossed his path, she dipped a mocking bow. "Your majesty," she hissed.

Before she could rise again on her own, Vegeta had her shoulders in his iron grasp, clutching her tightly. Rage burned in his eyes, but it was a quality about him Bulma was becoming accustomed to. Only this time, however, he looked like he wanted to kill...

"You're not going anywhere," he whispered menacingly.

She threw back her head, tossing her glorious hair in the process and distracting the Prince. He loosened his grip, and he unconsciously began to rub her shoulders. Bulma longed to give into the delicious feelings his light ministrations produced, but she had her pride, too, and it was a powerful force. "I thought you didn't care," she challenged.

"I don't!" he shot back coldly, only betrayed by the emotion in his harsh voice and his continued massage. "You're only another slave to be bent to my will!"

She broke from his grasp, afraid she'd loose her nerve if he kept touching her. "Oh really?" she sneered. "Kinda like the way Frieza 'bended' you? Tell me; was it over his knee or over a chair?"

As soon as the words flew out of her mouth, she knew she'd gone too far. She didn't truly know what he'd suffered under Frieza's tutoring, but by the look on the Prince's face, she herself might find out the answer to her question personally. Bulma had only wanted to best him verbally and had been desperately fishing for a way to bring him down when the thought had occurred to her. However, from the ferocity of his glare, she knew her plan had backfired. For a moment, she thought he was about to blast her into oblivion.

However, Len'ah broke the tension before it came to that. "Enough, both of you!" she scolded. "You're not children! Vegeta, I raised you better than this!"

The chastisement from his mother completely stunned him, deflating his anger. "But-but..." he sputtered.

"No buts," she said fiercely. "You know very well this poor girl has been through hell recently, and yet you goad her! Remember, to gain respect..."

"You must give respect," he mumbled.

Bulma couldn't resist the sudden rush of giggles that escaped her lips at the sight of resentful contrition contorting the Prince's handsome face. Her outburst of laughter, however, only earned her the irritated attention of Len'ah.

"And you, young lady, should know better than to let him push your buttons. If you don't respond to his baiting, he'll stop!"

The blue-eyed woman gazed shamefacedly at the floor. She knew she should not have risen to Vegeta's mockery. _But dammit, he makes me so mad!_ However, she accepted the fact that arguing with him in front of his mother was completely inappropriate.

"I apologize, Lady Len'ah," she murmured.

"Humph. It's me you should apologize to, woman," the Prince said.

"Stop it, Vegeta!" his mother snapped. "Be quiet! No! Not another word. Bulma, thank you. It's good to know at least one of you is mature."

She wrapped an encouraging arm around the girl and gently guided her back to her seat. "Now, let's pick up where we left off, before we were so rudely interrupted," she said, sending a pointed glare at her wayward son.

"Just wait a fucking minute!" Vegeta protested.

"Watch your language!" Len'ah admonished. "You are in the presence of Ladies. Go! Stand with Radditz and Asparaga until you can act your age! Maybe their exemplary behavior will rub off on you!"

Vegeta grumbled under his breath, but obeyed his mother. He growled at Radditz, not liking the twinkle in the man's eyes or the knowing smile on his lips. The Prince pierced him with a black glare before leaning reluctantly against the wall, wondering how he had lost control of not one, but two women. His mother always doted on him; in her eyes, he could do no wrong. Yet, within the space of a few minutes, he had become the villain, and Bulma the helpless victim. _Helpless, my ass._ There wasn't anything helpless about the woman, especially her mouth. She had given him more lip than anyone ever before, with the exception of his father. He wanted to stay angry with Bulma for turning his life upside-down and tried glaring at her beautiful form across the room.

_Beautiful...Shit! Why do I let her distract me so?_ The object of his cursed distraction was at the moment absorbed in gossip with his mother. Her eyes shone with warmth and delight; she looked almost happy. And gods, she smiled! She actually flashed a grin that wasn't tainted by lies or sarcasm. The change that such a simple muscular reaction produced in the woman was amazing. So far, the Saiya-jin no Ouji had only seen her angry or sad, and while she was beautiful when expressing either emotion, she even more radiant when smiling. For a moment, Vegeta forgot his irritation and just enjoyed the sight of her.

Completely unaware of her silent admirer, Bulma excitedly listened to Len'ah as she described the new wardrobe she'd promised to help Bulma create. The Chikyuu-jin native loved clothes. Any chance she had to discuss them she jumped upon.

"So, I think the basics you'll need include several daytime sheathes, similar to the one I gave you, but we'll actually get you fitted for these new ones, in several colors, of course. You've already got a banquet gown, but we'll make one more, maybe in gold or silver," Len'ah gushed.

She looked closely at the younger concubine, causing Bulma to blush. "Thanks for your help, Lady, but I don't want to be too much trouble..."

A loud snort of disbelief came from across the room, but a fierce glare from Len'ah silenced any further rude noises he might have made. Regaining Bulma's attention, she replied, "Nonsense, my dear. That's what I'm here for!"

"Alright," Bulma agreed. "Thank you."

Her initial excitement had died down when Vegeta had rudely reminded her of his presence. Now she couldn't think of anything else except his obsidian eyes, glittering in the darkening light and boring into her with animalistic hunger. She hesitantly glanced his way.

Len'ah followed Bulma's gaze to her son and knew it was time for them to leave. Rising to her feet, she said, "Well, I hate to break this up for now, but I must prepare for dinner. Vegeta, will you and Bulma be joining your father and me?"

Vegeta simply shook his head, not elaborating further. Len'ah, however, didn't need an explanation. She knew very well her son and his father did not get along. They were too much alike. _And yet, they are complete strangers..._

She snapped herself back to reality and grasped Bulma's hands in her own, squeezing them in a familiar gesture of comfort. "Now, remember, my dear. Tomorrow you must come, and we'll start on your new wardrobe. If Vegeta can't bring you, I'll send one of the guards to fetch you-"

"I'll bring her, Mother. I don't want anyone touching her," her son barked.

Len'ah and Bulma both rolled their eyes at his possessiveness, but otherwise ignored him. "Well, then that's settled. It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear. I do hope we get to be good friends."

Bulma beamed at the woman, truly touched by her concern. Her earlier doubts about Len'ah's sincerity had vanished, leaving in their wake only feelings of friendship and acceptance. "I'm sure we will, Lady. Good-bye!"

She turned to approach Vegeta, her new outfit still in her arms when Len'ah stopped them.

"Wait! Vegeta, you should let her change!" Len'ah demanded. "That dress is much too revealing!"

The Prince's eyes flicked down the figure of his concubine, still marveling at her exquisiteness. He saw the shiver of excitement rush through Bulma, and he smirked arrogantly. However, it was cold outside, and he didn't exactly like the idea of so much of her exposed to prying eyes. "Very well," he snapped agreement. "Woman, change. Radditz and Asparga, leave."

The other warriors left the room without question, but Bulma was not as docile. "I'm not changing in front of you. And my name is Bulma."

"Dammit, woman, change!"

"Not until you call me Bulma."

"Woman!"

"Bulma."

"Don't make me force you to change, woman!"

"Bulma."

"Wom-!"

"Vegeta!"

"Sorry, Mother."

"Apologize and address her correctly."

"But-"

"DO IT!"

"Fine. Sorry. Change. Bulma."

It wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for, but this was the Prince. It was the best he could do. The recently-named woman merely smirked triumphantly at the Prince before turning to Len'ah. "Thank you, Lady," she said. "May I use the other room to change?"

"Yes, of course," she replied, raising her arm towards the other archway.

Bulma disappeared into the next room before Len'ah addressed her son. "How have you been?"

"Nice of you to ask," Vegeta remarked sullenly.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man!" Len'ah warned.

"Sorry," mumbled her son, realizing he'd been saying that far too often this night. "I'm fine, Mother. Hands are full, but..."

"That's the nature of the beast," she finished. "How did your mission go other than finding Bulma? Did you bring back the stray Saiya-jin?"

"No," Vegeta replied. "He fell and hit his head as a child. Couldn't remember a damned thing about being a Saiya-jin. I was going to destroy him and the planet, but then I saw her. She agreed to come willingly if I promised not to harm her people, so I gave in."

Len'ah lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "Well, she certainly must have made an impression."

"Yes," Vegeta glowered. "But I'm not entirely convinced it's a good one..."

His response trailed off as Bulma walked back into the main room. In place of the black dress, she wore a white, linen-type sheath. It still hugged her body and had high slits up both legs, but didn't reveal nearly as much cleavage or skin. She could freely move her arms without worrying about exposing her breasts. Brown, leather sandals graced her feet, the straps winding all the way up her calves, emphasizing their muscular gracefulness. Even in the relatively simple attire, she still took his breath away.

Bulma saw the look of appreciation in Vegeta's eyes, but this time their intensity didn't seem quite as overwhelming. _Probably because more of me is covered, and he has less access to flesh_, she thought ironically. However, a part of her told her that her lessened unease also had to do with the fact that she'd seen a different side to Vegeta tonight. Oh, he was still definitely arrogant, inconsiderate, and selfish, but he also obviously loved his mother. Any guy who did that couldn't be all that bad.

Len'ah watched the two gaze at each other for a few moments before she discreetly cleared her throat. "Well, you two, you should get home. I assume, Vegeta, you'll be heading to your mountain estate."

"Yes."

"Well, be careful and goodnight."

Vegeta nodded his farewell to Len'ah before unexpectedly scooping up Bulma. He startled her enough that she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. A warm feeling spread through the Prince as he levitated and began flying slowly through the hallway.

Radditz waited for them in the antechamber. "Where to, my lord?"

"You stay here. Keep an eye on the lizard freaks," he ordered. "I'm taking the woman to my mountain keep. We'll be back in the morning, but only for a short while. Be prepared to leave then."

His Royal Guard nodded and flew off in another direction down the hall. Vegeta continued to pick up speed and height, heading for an open window set high up in the wall of the corridor.

* * *

He exited the palace without incident, and Bulma was shocked by the sudden coldness of the weather and the wind. She began trembling violently in Vegeta's arms. "Woman, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nnnn-ooo-tthingggg..."

"Are you cold?"

She could only nod as Vegeta grunted understanding. Suddenly she felt a warm force pass over her body, sending away the chill, leaving her warm and comfortable. "What did you do?"

"Expanded my ki shield around you," he replied.

"Oh."

Vegeta had side-tracked her so much that she had forgotten to ask Len'ah how she had become Vegeta's mother. They flew on in silence for a few more moments before Bulma began desperately wanting to ask him more questions. She began squirming and fidgeting in his embrace, driving the Prince to distraction. "Woman, what's the matter now?"

"I just wanted to ask..."

"Yes?"

"How can she be your mother?" Bulma finally questioned quietly.

Vegeta sighed, knowing this conversation was coming. He decided to keep it short and simple, but decided that toying with the woman a little bit before answering completely was alright. "What do you mean? Surely you know how brats are created!"

"Of course I do, idiot! I just meant that you look nothing like her...and she's not Saiya-jin...you're only half."

"First, you must know that half-breeds are anathema to my people. Usually such children are put down right after birth…"

"That's barbaric!"

"Hush, Bulma," Vegeta said. "I am not having a debate with you over my people's laws and traditions. Do you want me to continue?"

Bulma lightly punched him in the arm, startling Vegeta with the almost affectionate gesture. "What happened next?" she asked.

Normally he would have been irritated by a conversation this long, but with Bulma, he found it oddly comforting. Suddenly, he didn't mind telling her the rest of the abbreviated version.

"My father was nearing his 100th year of ruling and was being pressured by his council to marry and conceive his heir. At that time, he'd had Len'ah as his Royal Concubine for about two years and didn't want to put her aside. Heirs cannot claim the throne if both parents aren't Joined -

"What's that mean?"

"When a warrior Joins with a woman, he is asking her to be his woman, permanently. It is only permissible between full-blood Saiya-jins and all offspring are property of the stronger partner. Saiya-jins pride themselves on prowess, strength, and fighting ability. Beauty and compassion and love are not necessary. They are merely luxuries that are serviced through concubines…like you."

"I'm not just a pretty piece of fluff, Vegeta!" Bulma interjected. "I have a genius IQ -"

"Shut it, woman," the prince roared. "Any more interruptions and I won't finish the story."

Sighing dramatically, Bulma nodded.

"Anyway, my father needed to be Joined, but wasn't ready to let go of Len'ah, so he invoked an ancient law concerning couples Joined by Proxy. It let those soldiers in the midst of war Join with warriors who were not off-world, so at least a legal bond protected the soldier's claim."

Bulma listened, seemingly fascinated.

"So, he sent his Proxy to his chosen Joining partner, Tomata, half-away around the world. He performed the ceremony, so any offspring of the Joining could not have his or her citizenship or legitimacy questioned. The Proxy collected some of her eggs and froze them, so they could be fertilized by my father. The plan was for the embryos to be frozen and implanted into Tomata, so she could bear the heir without the King worrying about the child at court."

Bulma noticed he had taken a deep breath, as if the next part was harder to deal with. To help put him at ease, she nuzzled his neck, whispering, "Please continue."

Clearing his throat, Vegeta said, "Just before the Proxy was to leave with the frozen embryos, word reached my father that Tomata had succumbed to some rare disease and was dead. Instead of finding another Joining partner, however, my father decided to have the embryo implanted in Len'ah. Since the only ones who knew about my father's Joining were his Proxy and two of his most faithful warriors, he was able to protect his secret."

"What secret?"

"Me. Len'ah gave birth to me, but my biological mother was Tomata. If this information became known to the public, my family could be charged with treason and all of us executed."

"But why?"

"Blood purity. My father allowed his concubine to give birth to and raise his son and only heir. That's illegal. He put his concubine before his people, but I cannot blame him. Len'ah was my salvation, especially after I returned home after my time with Frieza."

"Wow," Bulma sighed. _And I thought American soap operas were convoluted…_

"The myth of the Key and the Legendary also saved me. It is said that the Legendary will be of his father, not like him. The physical change in me started to spread rumors and speculation like wildfire. I am thought to be the reincarnation of the Legendary."

"That's a mighty big role to fill," Bulma observed.

Vegeta shrugged, upsetting the woman in his arms. She had to once again wrap her arms tightly around his neck to regain her balance. Suddenly, a huge yawn came over her. "Excuse me," she said sleepily. "I guess today was more strenuous than I thought."

Overcome by fatigue, she rested her head against Vegeta's shoulder. He couldn't say he wasn't entirely against the idea of being her body pillow. "Rest, then, little one," he whispered into her ear. It would take them at least another hour to reach his mountain estate. "You've a long day tomorrow."

"You know what?" she murmured. "I think we just had our first real conversation."

"Yeah, well, I'm ending it," snorted Vegeta. "Shut up!"

"Way to go, dumbass! You just ruined it!"

"Whatever, bitch."

"Momma's boy!" she said before shutting her eyes.

A low growl reverberated deep in his throat. She didn't reply, however, for the moment she shut her eyes, unconsciousness claimed her. Her body relaxed as it prepared for rest, and she snuggled closer to him. Vegeta's arms reflexively wrapped around her tighter. The Prince couldn't stop the sudden grin that claimed his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her brow and gazed down at the woman, for once in a very long while at peace. They'd probably be at each other's throats tomorrow, but that didn't matter right now. All he knew was now he understood his father's obsession with his mother and how it had lasted for thirty years. It just felt good.

He didn't know why the feeling was there, but he was damn glad sure it was.

* * *

Back at the palace, Zarbon snuck his way through the halls of the palace, late for his meeting with Lord Frieza's insider, the Saiya-jin traitor. He looked behind furtively, making sure he wasn't being followed. Satisfied that he was alone in the corridor, he approached a hidden door that few knew existed and punched the code to unlock it. Stepping inside quickly as it slid open, Zarbon dragged his cape about him so it wouldn't get caught.

Only a thin shaft of light penetrated the darkness of the room, and he had to squint to make out the figure in front of him. The only way he could tell anyone else was in the room was from the sharp glint of reflection in their menacing gaze.

"You're late," the traitor hissed.

"My apologies. Lord Frieza-"

"Fuck him! Your tardiness might make me late as well, and if I am discovered, it is all finished. All these years of hard work will have been wasted. Make sure your lord understands that in the future."

Zarbon clenched his jaw in anger. It was degrading and humiliating to have to bow and scrape to this creature, but they were needed for the plan to work. "Again, my apologies. I will inform his lordship of your concern."

"You do that," the figure sneered. "And remind him that he wouldn't anywhere near where he is today without MY help."

"Of course, of course," he hastily agreed. "But we've other business to discuss. I assume you've heard about Vegeta's new little toy."

"Yes? What of her?" the figure inquired. They could see the lust burning in Zarbon's eyes at the thought of the blue-haired woman. It was disgusting. He was actually getting hard just thinking about her, if the bulge in his pants was any indication.

"Frieza would like you to get to know her, form a bond with her. Pump her for as much information about the Prince as possible."

"You honestly think she would know more about Vegeta than me?"

"No, no," Zarbon tried to backpedal. "She just might be privy to information about his power capabilities and such. We need to know how strong he is before we move ahead."

"Fine," the figure replied sullenly. "Is that all you summoned me for?"

"Basically, yes," the green-haired alien nodded. "We want to monitor the Prince as closely as possible. Do you have anything to report?"

The figure seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then shook their, as if dismissing any doubts. "Yes, I do," they replied. "Chikyuu wasn't destroyed."

"What?"

"Vegeta didn't decimate it."

"But why lie about it?"

"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out. Bulma may know, however. I'll see what I can do."

"You do that, but the primary goal is to encourage a relationship between Vegeta and his new toy."

"Why?" the voice asked indignantly.

Zarbon quickly filled the figure in on Frieza's idea about the Prince mating and bonding with the slave girl in order to get rid of him as a potential threat. "He won't have anything to defend once he's lost his right to be King. He'll probably even go off planet. Maybe even to Chikyuu. Who knows?" he lied. There wasn't any point in telling the figure the complete plan.

"I don't like it, Zarbon. Vegeta was not to be harmed. If he bonds with the girl, harming her will harm him, too. I only got involved in this to bring down the King and his race of bastard monkeys!"

"Yeah, well, I don't think you have much of a choice in this one," he smirked. "You try and betray us, the results won't be pretty, for you or Vegeta. Besides, he's not gonna be harmed, and once everything falls into place, he won't have an empire to rule. What's wrong with taking him out of the picture a bit early?"

"I still don't like it," the figure snarled. "The two of you are making decisions without me!"

Zarbon laughed a bit maniacally. "We've been making the decisions without you from the start. No, don't argue. Just remember what I said. Frieza doesn't issue warnings twice."

With that, he bowed formally to the traitor and left, cautiously peering into the hall before hurrying down it. After a few moments, the other figure exited the room as well, slinking into the shadows in the opposite direction of Zarbon.

No one saw either of them.

* * *

A/N: Whoa, that was a long chapter…longest so far, I think. Please let me know if you have any questions.

15 reviews = new chapter! :D


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX - Love Is a Battlefield**

**A/N: I just love you guys! Thank you! I don't remember this story gaining so much attention the first go-around. I really do appreciate it!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

We're losing control, will you turn me away or touch me deep inside?  
And when all this gets old, will it still feel the same?  
There's no way this will die,  
But if we get much closer, I could lose control,  
And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold.  
~Pat Benatar, _Love Is A Battlefield_

* * *

Dawn burst into the room, bathing the sleeping woman in a wash of light. She laid, curled on her side with her hair fanned out behind her in a brilliant spill of azure blue. Her skin gleamed with a fine sheen of perspiration, despite her nude state, and she'd pulled the sheet up around her thighs in order to escape the heat. Even in the semi-conscious state of sleep, her body knew it was in a foreign environment, one much more humid and heavier than her own native one.

The figure watching her sleep was very grateful (for once) of the thicker atmosphere of Vegetasei, as it was the cause of the wonderful expanse of slim leg that he was now thoroughly enjoying. Even in the mountains, the morning sun was harsh, and as Vegeta made use of only the barest of technological necessities, cooling units were to be found nowhere on his estate. _May have to rethink that_, the Prince thought, while continuing to leer at his concubine. The knowledge of an overly-heated Bulma just a few feet away might prove to be too great a temptation. He'd never get any training done.

Stepping further into the room from the shadows, he contemplated the woman. He honestly didn't know when his fascination with her would reach its limit, assuming it even had a limit. Even now, just sleeping, she'd already deprived him of three hours of training. He'd come to wake her just before dawn and was distracted by the enticing picture she made tangled up in his sheets. Finding her deep, rhythmic breathing to be relaxing, Vegeta had decided to meditate awhile before waking her, but she still hovered in the margins of his thoughts. Accepting this distraction, he'd sat down in the shadows and proceeded to watch her.

Just watch her.

For three hours, his mind was consumed with only her, and yet he was no closer to understanding why she dominated his imagination. Vegeta finally had to admit to himself that there simply was no explanation. He just needed her. Why wasn't important. She was a weakness; no way around that.

Life without her was unacceptable.

So, he'd used his time to think of ways to reduce his vulnerability, and surprisingly, he'd found himself forming a battle plan. Vegeta wasn't stupid. It was only a matter of time before she attempted escape. He knew that, just as assuredly as he knew he wouldn't let her get very far. But she would try to get away, and he had to prepare himself for that, both emotionally and physically. Hopefully, if he won this mental war he was establishing with Bulma, she would only try to escape a few times. The basic foundation of his strategy was quite simple.

He would make her love him.

Vegeta didn't think he was in love with her. After all, he wasn't really that familiar with the emotion. True, Len'ah had raised him in his early years with love, but he didn't really remember it. What he did remember was tainted by Frieza's efforts to rid him of anything but hatred and rage. The lizard-tyrant's methods were unforgettable, to say the least. But, it was just as well. As a warrior first and foremost, he had no need of love.

A concubine, however, existed for love, so Vegeta had no problem demanding that Bulma love him. He gave no thought to the fact that Bulma's status as concubine was only a cover. If she loved him, it would only make it harder for his enemies to discover the truth. She would love him, and as such, always want to be with him. Thus, she would not try to escape, and he would not have to worry that any attempts to do so would hurt him.

Satisfied with that portion of Bulma's weakness, he pondered on her lack of physical strength. This too posed a problem for him because he had many enemies. While he never intended for her to be out of his sight for any real length of time without proper protection, he also was pragmatic enough to realize that the only person he'd ever leave with Bulma's care was Radditz or Asparga. Sometimes there were obligations both men had to fulfill, and thus neither would be available to protect Bulma.

After brief thought, this problem was also easily solved. Vegeta would simply train her, starting today. Not enough that she would ever be a threat to him, but just enough that she could fend off an attacker until he could get to her side and rescue her. He would approach this endeavor with caution, however, because he didn't want anyone to discover that he was training her. It would cause too many unnecessary questions. She would also have to be monitored closely so she did not grow anywhere near to his level of power.

At this last thought, a nagging voice arose in his mind, admonishing him for his selfishness, but he managed to squelch it just like the unbidden thought that he couldn't simply demand Bulma's love. No, Vegeta knew these doubts were unfounded. Both aspects of his plan were sound. Bulma would be as minimal a weakness to him as possible, and his unending need to possess her would be satisfied.

And it had only taken him three hours to form a plan for the rest of their lives. He was realistic enough to know that both parts of his battle strategy would take time, the training especially. But he was a patient man. He would give her a few months before expecting her to be battle-worthy.

He wasn't sure about a time frame for love, though. _How long does it take someone to fall in love?_ In his limited experience, love had come immediately and unconditionally. At least, that's what Len'ah had claimed. But she was his mother. Love like that was to be expected. So, Vegeta figured he'd give Bulma a little more time.

Two weeks sounded good.

That thought in mind, he approached the sleeping woman and sat on the edge of the bed. At the sudden, new weight, Bulma muttered something unintelligible, flicked a sleep-filled gaze at him, and rolled over. Vegeta grimaced with impatient frustration. How was he supposed to make her love him if she was asleep?

He reached out to roughly shake her awake and tell her about his plan. However, he became distracted by the smooth planes of her back. Mischief twinkled in his eyes, and Vegeta decided to show her how to love him rather than simply telling her to.

He crawled into the bed, stretching himself out beside her, but careful not to get too close. The Prince remembered well what had happened when he'd fully embraced her in bed while she slept. Having no desire to repeat that episode, he remained close to the edge. Bracing himself on his side with one arm, he used the other to slowly and gently knead the tense muscles around her neck. Of its own accord, his tail snaked its way over her lower back, dipping occasionally across her torso to tease the undersides of her breasts and abdomen.

After only a few moments, he felt Bulma stiffen, and he halted his ministrations immediately. When he didn't feel her relax after a full minute, he removed his hand and tail from her person, allowing her the consideration to regain her bearings.

That consideration wasn't rewarded, however, when she turned over to face him, a fierce glare gracing her delicate features.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed.

_Gods, she's beautiful when she's angry_, he thought in amazement. However, he was not about to let her see the effect she had on him. The Prince schooled his features into a mask of indifference.

"I'm waking you up, woman!" he stated. "You've wasted enough daylight."

"Where the hell am I?" Bulma then demanded.

"My mountain estate. You fell asleep in my arms last night, and I brought you to bed," he answered, smirking at the blush creeping over her cheeks.

"And did you, uh, sleep here as well?" she asked.

"This is _my _private bedroom," Vegeta responded. At his insinuation, Bulma began to scoot away from him, but he grabbed her arm before she could fall off the bed.

"Relax, woman," he said. "I didn't sleep. You were alone in bed all night." No need to mention that she hadn't been alone in the room for the better part of the late night/early morning when he was watching her.

She eyed him suspiciously. He seemed in too good of a mood this morning. His muscular, compact form was tightly encased in a spandex-like suit, giving her more than an eyeful of his toned physique. Seeing the way she was checking him out, Vegeta deepened his smirk and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head, letting her enjoy the view. Bulma's curious gaze morphed into a full-blown glare as she realized that he was the cause for the sudden rush of heat she felt flow through her. _Gods, no one should be so gorgeous..._It was beyond her understanding how hormones could so completely skew her mental capabilities. The way he was looking at her made her melt, and she suddenly felt irritated. _Two can play this game..._

Bulma seemed to loosen up a little, enough to realize that she was incredibly stiff, seemingly unaware of her nudity. She sat up slowly. Trying to ignore the Prince's annoying presence, she began to stretch, first her limbs and then her back, arching and moaning languidly like a cat, seemingly unaware of the effect her movements had on Vegeta. His breathing increased rapidly as he watched the way her lithe form moved beneath the thin sheet, but she only noticed his piercing gaze when he uttered a low growl. Following the line of his eyes, she saw that the sheet had slipped from her chest, exposing a lot more flesh than she ever wanted to. If she hadn't been aware of her nakedness before, she certainly was now.

Though she quickly grabbed the sheet to cover up again, it was too late.

Bulma had only a split-second to exhale a small "Eep!" before Vegeta was upon her, forcing her to recline on her back and plunging his tongue into her mouth. The kiss began roughly, both parties caught in the initial adrenaline rush of forbidden passion. Bulma put up no resistance, allowing herself to just feel and not think. He simply took her breath away and replaced it with his. Calloused fingers wound themselves into her hair, using the newly-found leverage to pull her even closer and deepen the kiss.

Vegeta was going crazy. Her responsiveness was incredible and made him want to devour her more. When he felt her moan, he growled back, feeling her small frame shudder beneath his. He broke the kiss, afraid he'd scared her, but looking into her passion-clouded eyes, he saw only an intense reflection of his desire. With another growl, he captured her mouth again, only a bit more gently this time.

The kiss continued for a few moments before Vegeta's hands moved from her hair and lightly caressed their way down to her chest. The rough, calloused palms cupped and kneaded her warm, supple mounds through the sheet as his mouth trailed butterfly kisses along her jaw line and neck. His tongue swirled around the juncture of her shoulder, eliciting another moan. Vegeta made a mental note of that particularly sensitive area before his mouth replaced his hands.

He tried to tug away the sheet blocking her breasts from his heated gaze, but she made a small sound of protest. The Prince's onyx eyes shot straight to her sapphire ones, and he shook his head. "You will never hide yourself from me again," he whispered roughly.

Bulma shuddered at the intensity of his words and gasped in shock as the sheet was suddenly ripped away. A rush of air hit her nipples, causing them to harden. She watched in wonder as Vegeta's already lust-filled eyes darkened more at the sight of her arousal. He locked that black gaze with hers as he lowered his mouth to catch a taut nub in his teeth, flicking it rapidly with his tongue. A low, triumphant chuckle resounded from within him as she gasped again in pleasure, arching her back and grasping his hair, pushing him into her harder.

Heavy, humid heat began to build at her core as he suckled, nipped, kneaded, pulled, and rolled her nipple feverishly, and she threw her head back in complete abandon. His mouth then kissed, licked, and bit a path through the valley of her breasts to her other mound and treated it to the same sweet torture as its twin.

She thrashed wildly beneath him, sex and lust and sweat creating a heavy perfume that permeated the already humid room. Bulma almost lost it completely when she felt his finger teasing her nether lips. As he inserted one digit into her sticky wetness, his mouth rained down kiss after kiss upon her torso, his tongue lathing a wet path around her navel, occasionally sliding into the hole the tease the sensitive flesh hidden there. He pushed another finger into her, feeling her eager muscle clamp around him as his hand set up a steady rhythm.

Bulma felt herself rapidly approaching the edge of ecstasy. She was ready to take the plunge, letting Vegeta know of her heightened state with soft gasps followed by full-bodied moans. Somehow this time was different from the other times before. It seemed as if Vegeta wanted her to feel pleasure, and he wanted to be the one, the only one, to give it to her, if the intensely possessive gaze he pierced her with now was any indication.

_No one has ever made me feel this way before_, she realized through a haze of passion. Unbidden, an image of Yamcha flashed in her mind, and at the memory of her dead lover, she stiffened.

Vegeta felt the sudden change in Bulma and immediately ceased his movements. The tears he saw form in her eyes twisted something in his gut. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ He shouldn't be concerned that she didn't seem to want his attentions anymore, and he hesitated in removing his hand from her.

"Please, no more...", he heard her whisper.

That did him in. His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat, but he knew he must comply with her wishes. He placed a light kiss on her abdomen as his hand crept from her wetness. Though he desperately wanted to feel her tightness clamped around him, he crawled slowly back up her body until his full length rested over her once again.

Looking into her angelic face, he saw a slow stream of tears working their way down her cheeks. Tenderly, he licked the salty liquid away, whispering soft words of comfort, allowing her to regain her hold on reality.

"Hush, woman. I promised you I wouldn't force you," he murmured between kisses. "There's no need to fear me, not this way..."

"Why?" she whispered back. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

His mouth halted in its path, and he raised himself above her, resting his weight on one elbow. His other hand brushed back a few strands of sky blue hair. Black eyes bore seriously into blue ones as he answered, "I have tried, little one, I have tried...Your will to resist me is strong, but my will to possess you is stronger."

Bulma's eyes widened at the fervent undertones in Vegeta's harsh rasp. She felt a small rush as being the object of such devout desire, but her pride wouldn't allow her to enjoy it.

"I will always resist you," she hissed defiantly.

She expected him to lash out at her in rage. However, he simply lowered his forehead to hers, gazing deeply into her, an all-knowing half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I know," he whispered back.

Bulma found herself speechless at his announcement. She didn't know what to make of the Prince. _Damn his moodiness._ _What the hell does that mean?_

Before her mouth could vocalize her question, Vegeta dropped a hard kiss to her lips and rolled off of her. He stood beside her still-prone form, just looking at her with the same mysterious, almost wistful, stare.

"I know you will continue to fight," he elaborated. "Your stubborn pride matches my own. But while you want to fight this thing between us, you also long to surrender. I am a warrior; I'm accustomed to waiting out my enemy."

Bulma shot straight up at his words, being sure to clasp the sheet tightly to her. Anger flared her nostril and flushed her face. "You think we're at war? That I'm the enemy?"

Vegeta smirked. Normally, he himself would return her anger with equal fervor, but his morning's meditation had, at least for now, quelled his troubled spirit. He was going into battle, and he had a plan: lay siege to her until she capitulated. The Prince saw no reason to disguise his intentions.

"Yes, woman! Until you surrender to me, you are my enemy," he replied, feeling the heat of battle rush through him as he threw down the proverbial gauntlet. "And know this, little one, I have not lost a battle or war, and I take no prisoners."

She began to tremble. Part of her reaction stemmed from anger. His whole philosophy was incredibly domineering and chauvinistic. _I am not some spoil of war!_ she wailed inwardly. The strong, independent, new-millennium woman in her raged against his superior, masculine attitude.

However, another part of her, something deeper, baser, more animalistic, responded physically to Vegeta's battle-cry. It was the primal instinct in her that told her his maleness was dominant to her femaleness, that it was wholly natural and right and fundamental that he should conquer her. This thought, though unbidden and unwanted, curled in her mind, exciting her, making all other logic seem irrational. So, as she was battling Vegeta, she also found herself at war internally, anger and anticipation claiming an equal stake in the outcome.

Vegeta saw this internal conflict within her eyes and knew he stood a chance. While he still would have demanded her surrender despite any contrary feelings she might have, knowing she wanted him reassured him immensely that he would be victorious. However, he did know that victory was not come this day, so he felt it best to end their conversation.

"Woman, all this jabbering gets us nowhere," he said gruffly. "We've wasted enough time. Get yourself ready."

"Ready for what?"

He found the opportunity to tease her too tempting to let pass. "Why, battle, of course," he replied with a smug smile.

"Asshole!" she hissed. "This is a serious matter! There is no way in hell that I'm surrendering my body to you!"

"Woman, calm down!" he snapped, feeling his cool control begin to crack. "You're going to begin training with me! Now get your ass out of bed and dressed!"

Somehow Bulma felt more at ease with Vegeta's irritation and anger. They were more familiar that tender, though still domineering, demands for her sexual submission. The only comfort she took from their earlier conversation was the reassurance that he wouldn't take her forcibly again. Of course, this was a cold comfort considering the fact that he by no means was going to stop touching her, trying to get her to willingly give herself to him. She honestly didn't know how she was going to hold out against his gentle assaults.

However, she wasn't about to let him see her weakness and decided a quick change in subject matter was in order. She rose from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her. "Where may I dress?" she asked.

Vegeta could not help but marvel at her ability to command his respect and admiration. She stood like an ice goddess before him. Tall and imperious, passionate and untouchable, elegant and dignified, all the while wearing nothing but a sheet, her hair a wild, disheveled mass, her flawless skin flushed and glowing. He was simply awestruck and was reminded again that she was his match in every way. His resolve to make her acknowledge and accept this fact was strengthened.

"You may dress in here, of course. This room will be shared by both of us," he replied. He could see protest arise in her demeanor against the living arrangements, but he cut her off. "In the dresser, you will find appropriate gear in which to train. I'll wait outside."

"Very well," she said in a clipped tone.

As he departed through the open door, she added, "Don't assume that my cooperation as of this moment means I will give into this stupid war of yours. I will not surrender my body to you."

He paused midstride. Over his shoulder, he responded, "It is not your body that I want surrendered."

She growled in frustration, thrown into more turmoil by his denial. "Then what the fuck do you want from me? What am I supposed to surrender?"

At her desperate plea, Vegeta turned around, looking her dead in the eye as he replied, "Your heart."

Bulma's eyes widened, and her jaw fell open. She flopped bonelessly back down onto the bed, unable to think coherently. Vegeta smirked. _Score one for me_. Knowing she needed a few moments alone, he committed her stunned expression to memory (for later gloating purposes) before taking his leave, letting Bulma interpret his answer on her own.

* * *

It took Bulma a few minutes to collect herself. _Oh. My. God. He just did __**not**__ say that._ She blinked her eyes rapidly, unable to focus on any one particular object. It was too much. Simply, horrifically, too damned much. She felt herself get angrier. First the bastard had the gall to declare some sort of sick, perverse war on her, and now he wanted her heart as well? It was too much. Vegeta was nothing but a selfish, spoiled, arrogant, misogynistic bastard. Unbidden came the memory, however, of how wonderful being in his arms felt. _He makes me feel as if I'm the only person in the world..._

_Whoa, girl! Get a grip!_ She mentally chastised herself. Her imagination wanted to delve into the mystery that was the Saiya-jin no Ouji, but logic tempered that desire. Too much had happened too quickly for her to be ready to make any other moves than she already was.

Focusing on one thing at a time seemed to be the best course of action at this point. She looked down at herself, knowing she needed to get dressed. Looking around the room, she saw that it was actually pretty mundane. Done tastefully, if plainly, in earth tones, it sported the basic furniture of any bedchamber: bed, nightstand, wardrobe, dresser. _Ah!_ Vegeta had said clothes were in the dresser.

Rummaging through a drawer, she found a spandex suit - dark blue - exactly like the one Vegeta always seemed to wear; only this one was obviously made for a woman. Dropping the sheet, she slid into the suit, finding that it almost fit too well. It hugged her curves in all the right places, giving ample support where needed for strenuous physical exercise.

She scrutinized herself in a wall mirror. The suit showed off her form really well, but for as tight as it was, she found it also incredibly easy to move around in. Finding some loose string, she tied her long locks into a single braid, giving herself one final nod of her approval.

Bulma walked away from the mirror, glancing around the room once more. She thought she might have liked it, had it not been Vegeta's. Squaring her shoulders, she stalked from the room, vowing to never set foot in it again.

* * *

Four hours later found Bulma breaking that vow. Well, perhaps not exactly. She hadn't actually stepped a foot into the room. Vegeta had, though, with her thrown over his shoulder like a sack of flour. His right arm clamped her rounded bottom firmly to him, her wiggling and squirming doing nothing to dislodge her from his grasp.

"Put me down, you hairless ape!" she screeched.

Bulma gasped when he slapped his hand against her ass. Hard.

His fierce growl overrode her howl of pain. "Woman, I've had enough of this shit!"

"Humph!" she sneered. "Just because I got in a few good hits doesn't mean you can go all macho and try to regain your manhood by manhandling me!"

"Woman, you did **not** get any good hits in!" he argued as he tossed her onto the bed.

"Oomph!" she breathed, landing none too gently. "You didn't have to throw me! My ass is bruised enough as it is!"

Vegeta towered over her from the foot of the bed. "Only because you couldn't remain on your feet during training!"

"You didn't give me a chance!" she protested. "You were all over me! That seems to be all you can do today!"

He quirked an eyebrow, his face falling into a faint leer. "Would you like me to be all over you again?"

Her eyes dilated until there was almost no blue visible. "N-n-noo..."

"Then shut up."

Bulma gulped, not liking the predatory glare that sharpened the Prince's features. By their own will, her eyes raked over his form. An evil smirk graced her lips as she saw that one of his eyes was blackening.

"How's the shiner?"

Vegeta's leer was immediately replaced by irritation as he probed the tender area around his eye. Bulma was by no means his match in battle, but she did have a nasty right hook. He snarled, trying to cover his embarrassment. "Get yourself cleaned up! You smell rancid!"

"Ahh!" she screamed, rising on the bed, her hands trying to encircle his neck in a chokehold.

Grabbing her wrists lightly, he whispered, "Be careful, little girl, unless you want a repeat performance of what happened out there."

He didn't release her bracelet-encased wrists as he waited for her response, but he did loosen his grip. Their mouths were inches apart, and Vegeta thought she might actually kiss him, as her mouth drew closer, like in slow motion.

But then she stopped, her once lax body stiff with paranoia, her eyes hooded.

"Fine," she muttered. "Let me go."

Vegeta released his grip, and she snatched her wrists back. Climbing off the bed, she asked, "Where should I shower?"

"Through there," he answered, jerking his head to a door in the corner of the room.

He was unable to meet her eyes, but did watch her usually graceful form stumble into the bathroom. Another smirk passed by his lips as he thought about their training session. It hadn't been all that productive; they hadn't even gotten into any ki exercises. The better part of it had been spent showing her various defensive stances and moves. Only the last hour had been spent actually fighting. However, for someone with no combative experience, she was a quick study. He was sure if he allowed her to she would become a very powerful warrior.

He sat on the bed as he heard the shower begin, trying to distract himself from images of Bulma naked. Being in the training field with her had been bad enough. Towards the end of the session, she had somehow managed to knock him flat onto his back. As she had stood over him laughing, he'd kicked her feet out from under her. The moment her butt hit the ground, he was on top of her, demanding her surrender. She, of course, had refused and began struggling in earnest. Vegeta had been forced to subdue her with a kiss. Just as he'd been getting into it, she'd struck him in the eye.

In retrospect, the Prince had to admire her spirit, but as he grinned at the memory of their fight, he winced too at the pain in his eyes and upper jaw. _She'll pay for that_, he thought, grinning evilly.

Vegeta stood as the shower turned off. He concentrated on the business he would discuss with his father today at the palace to distract himself from the King of naked Bulma drying herself off. However, he found that his thoughts wandered. _Damn, what I wouldn't give to be a towel._ Fortunately his thoughts couldn't go much further as she stepped out of the bathroom, dressed once again in the attire Len'ah had given her the previous day.

"Well, what now?" Bulma demanded.

He raised an eyebrow at the tone, but let it slide. _This once... _

"We're going to the palace," he replied. "But only for a short time. You are not to be out of Radditz' or my sight, at any point."

"Um, alright," she mumbled. Then, when she felt his eyes on her, she demanded, "What are you staring at?"

"You," he replied before thinking. "Shut up, and let me look."

His gaze traveled over her form leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. Bulma grew agitated under his intense scrutiny, but refused to let him see it.

Just when she thought she could stand no more, Vegeta snapped, "I'm done. Let's go."

She followed him outside the building. Then she asked, "Aren't you going to shower? We just had an intense workout!"

Vegeta didn't pause until they reached the outdoors, and she was scooped up in his arms unexpectedly. They were well into the air before he answered.

"Woman, hell will freeze over before you give me an intense workout," he said in an arrogant tone.

Bulma gasped in outrage.

"Bastard!" she hissed "Why the hell did you wait so long to answer?"

He smirked. "To piss you off."

She promptly punched him in his eye…again.

He kept his mouth shut for the duration of the trip.

* * *

A/N: You know the drill. 20 reviews = new chapter!


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